The History of the Hen Fever. A Humorous Record
by Geo. P. Burnham · English · Gutenberg #40872 · 444,236 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The History of the Hen Fever. A Humorous Record
Author: Geo. P. Burnham
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HISTORY OF THE HEN FEVER. A HUMOROUS RECORD ***
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Painted by F. Winterhalter.]
H.M.G. Majesty, Victoria, Queen of Great Britain,
IN THE ROBES OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER.
DAGUERREOTYPED BY THOMPSON,
From the Portrait in possession of Geo. P. Burnham;
PRESENTED TO HIM BY HER MAJESTY, THE QUEEN, IN 1853
[See Letter, page 130.]
THE HISTORY
OF
THE HEN FEVER.
A Humorous Record.
BY
GEO. P. BURNHAM.
[Illustration]
In one Volume.--Illustrated
BOSTON:
JAMES FRENCH AND COMPANY.
NEW YORK: J.C. DERBY.
PHILADELPHIA: T.B. PETERSON.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by
GEORGE P. BURNHAM,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts.
STEREOTYPED BY
HOBART & ROBBINS,
New England Type and Stereotype Foundery,
BOSTON.
GEO. C. RAND, PRINTER, 3 CORNHILL.
TO THE
Amateurs, Fanciers, and Breeders
OF
POULTRY,
THE SUCCESSFUL AND UNFORTUNATE DEALERS,
THROUGHOUT THE UNITED STATES;
AND
THE VICTIMS OF MISPLACED CONFIDENCE IN
THE HEN TRADE, GENERALLY,
I DEDICATE
This Volume.
PREFACE.
In preparing the following pages, I have had the opportunity to inform
myself pretty accurately regarding the ramifications of the subject upon
which I have written herein; and I have endeavored to avoid setting down
"aught in malice" in this "_History of the_ HEN FEVER" in the United
States.
I have followed this extraordinary _mania_ from its incipient stages to
its final death, or its _cure_, as the reader may elect to term its
conclusion. The first symptoms of the fever were exhibited in my own
house at Roxbury, Mass., early in the summer of 1849. From that time
down to the opening of 1855 (or rather to the winter of 1854), I have
been rather intimately connected with the movement, if common report
speaks correctly; and I believe I have seen as much of the tricks of
this trade as one usually meets with in the course of a single natural
life.
Now that the most serious effects of this (for six years) alarming
epidemic have passed away from among us, and when "the people" who have
been called upon to pay the cost of its support, and for the burial of
its victims, can look back upon the scenes that have in that period
transpired with a disposition cooled by experience, I have thought that
a volume like this might prove acceptable to the hundreds and thousands
of those who once "took an interest in the hen trade,"--who _may_ have
been mortally wounded, or haply who have escaped with only a broken
wing; and who will not object to learn how the thing has been done, and
"who threw the bricks"!
If my readers shall be edified and amused with the perusal of this work
as much as I have been in recalling these past scenes while writing it,
I am content that I have not thrown the powder away. I have written it
in perfect good-nature, with the design to gratify its readers, and to
offend no man living.
And trusting that _all_ will be pleased who may devote an hour to its
pages, while at the same time I indulge the hope that _none_ will feel
aggrieved by its tone, or its text, I submit this book to the public.
Respectfully,
GEO. P. BURNHAM.
RUSSET HOUSE, _Melrose_, 1855.
CONTENTS.
Chapter Page
I. PREMONITORY SYMPTOMS OF THE DISEASE, 9
II. THE "COCHIN-CHINAS." BUBBLE NUMBER ONE, 14
III. THE FIRST FOWL SHOW IN BOSTON, 21
IV. HOW "POULTRY-BOOKS" ARE MADE, 26
V. THREATENING INDICATIONS, 32
VI. THE EPIDEMIC SPREADING, 37
VII. ALARMING DEMONSTRATIONS, 41
VIII. THE FEVER WORKING, 47
IX. THE SECOND POULTRY SHOW IN BOSTON, 52
X. THE MUTUAL ADMIRATION SOCIETY'S SECOND SHOW, 58
XI. PROGRESS OF THE MALADY, 65
XII. MY CORRESPONDENCE, 70
XIII. THE OTHER SIDE OF THE QUESTION, 85
XIV. "BOTHER'EM POOTRUMS." BUBBLE NUMBER TWO, 90
XV. ADVERTISING EXTRAORDINARY, 98
XVI. HEIGHT OF THE FEVER, 104
XVII. RUNNING IT INTO THE GROUND, 111
XVIII. ONE OF THE FINAL KICKS, 119
XIX. THE FOURTH FOWL SHOW IN BOSTON, 124
XX. PRESENT TO QUEEN VICTORIA, 129
XXI. EXPERIMENTS OF AMATEURS, 137
XXII. TRUE HISTORY OF "FANNY FERN," 147
XXIII. CONVALESCENCE, 155
XXIV. AN EXPENSIVE BUSINESS, 160
XXV. THE GREAT PAGODA HEN, 165
XXVI. "POLICY THE BEST HONESTY," 176
XXVII. A GENUINE HUMBUG, 182
XXVIII. BARNUM IN THE FIELD, 190
XXIX. FIRST "NATIONAL" POULTRY SHOW IN NEW YORK, 198
XXX. BARNUM'S INNATE DIFFIDENCE, 204
XXXI. A SUPPRESSED SPEECH, 213
XXXII. A "CONFIDENCE" MAN, 220
XXXIII. THE ESSENCE OF HUMBUG, 224
XXXIV. A TRUMP CARD, 229
XXXV. "HOLD YOUR HORSES," 237
XXXVI. TRICKS OF THE TRADE, 243
XXXVII. FINAL DEATH-THROES, 252
XXXVIII. THE PORTE-MONNAIE I OWE 'EM COMPANY, 259
XXXIX. A SATISFACTORY PEDIGREE, 263
XL. DOING THE GENTEEL THING, 273
XLI. THE FATE OF THE "MODEL" SHANGHAES, 279
XLII. AN EMPHATIC CLINCHER, 288
XLIII. "STAND FROM UNDER," 294
XLIV. BURSTING OF THE BUBBLE, 302
XLV. THE DEAD AND WOUNDED, 307
XLVI. A MOURNFUL PROCESSION, 312
XLVII. MY SHANGHAE DINNER, 318
THE HISTORY OF THE HEN FEVER.
CHAPTER I.
PREMONITORY SYMPTOMS OF THE DISEASE.
I was sitting, one afternoon, in the summer of 1849, in my little
parlor, at Roxbury, conversing with a friend, leisurely, when he
suddenly rose, and passing to the rear window of the room, remarked to
me, with considerable enthusiasm,
"What a splendid lot of fowls you have, B----! Upon my word, those are
very fine indeed,--do you know it?"
I had then been breeding poultry (for my own amusement) many years; and
the specimens I chanced at that time to possess were rather even in
color, and of good size; but were only such as any one might have
had--bred from the common stock of the country--who had taken the same
pains that I did with mine.
There were perhaps a dozen birds, at the time, in the rear yard, and my
friend (_then_, but who subsequently passed to a competitor, and
eventually turned into a sharp but harmless enemy) was greatly delighted
with them, as I saw from his enthusiastic conversation, and his
laudation of their merits.
I am not very fast, perhaps, to appreciate the drift of a man's motives
in casual conversation,--and then, again, it may be that I am "not so
slow" to comprehend certain matters as I might be! At all events, I have
sometimes flattered myself that, on occasions like this, I can "see as
far into a millstone as can he who picks it;" and so I listened to my
friend, heard all he had to say, and made up my mind accordingly, before
he left me.
"I tell you, B----, those are handsome chickens," he insisted. "I've got
a fine lot, myself. You keep but one variety, I notice. I've got 'em
_all_."
"All what?" I inquired.
"O, all kinds--all kinds. The Chinese, and the Malays, and the Gypsies,
and the Chittaprats, and the Wang Hongs, and the Yankee Games, and
Bengallers, and Cropple-crowns, and Creepers, and Top-knots, and Gold
Pheasants, and Buff Dorkings, and English Games, and Black Spanish and
Bantams,--and I've several _new breeds_ too, I have made myself, by
crossing and mixing, _in the last year_, which beat the world for beauty
and size, and excellence of quality."
"Indeed!" I exclaimed. "So you have made several new _breeds_ during
_one_ year's crossing, eh? That _is_ remarkable, doctor, certainly. I
have never been able yet to accomplish so extraordinary a feat, myself,"
I added.
"Well, _I_ have," said the doctor,--and probably, as he was a practising
physician of several years' experience, he knew how this reversion of
nature's law could be accomplished. I didn't.
"Yes," he continued; "I have made a breed I call the 'Plymouth
Rocks,'--superb birds, and great layers. The--a--'Yankee
Games,'--regular knock-'em-downs,--rather fight than eat, any time; and
never flinch from the puncture of steel. Indeed, _so_ plucky are these
fowls, that I think they rather _like_ to be cut up than
otherwise,--alive, I mean. Then, I've another breed I've made--the
'Bengal Mountain Games.' These _are_ smashers--never yield, and are
magnificent in color. Then I have the '_Fawn-colored Dorkings_,' too;
and several other fancy breeds, that I've fixed up; and fancy poultry is
going to sell well in the next three years, you may be sure. Come and
see my stock, B----, won't you? And I'll send you anything you want from
it, with pleasure."
I was then the editor of a weekly paper in Boston. I accepted my
friend's kind invitation, and travelled forty miles and back to examine
his poultry. It looked well--_very_ well; the arrangement of his houses,
&c., was good, and I was gratified with the show of stock, and with his
politeness. But he was an enthusiast; and I saw this at the outset. And
though I heard all he had to say, I could not, for the life of me,
comprehend how it was that he could have decided upon the astounding
merits of all these different _breeds_ of fowls in so short a space of
time--to wit, by the crossings in a single year! But that was his
affair, not mine. He was getting his fancy poultry ready for the market;
and he repeated, "It will _sell_, by and by."
And I believe it did, too! The doctor was right in _this_ particular.
He informed me that he intended to exhibit several specimens of his
fowls, shortly, in Boston; and soon afterwards I met with an
advertisement in one of the agricultural weeklies, signed by my friend
the doctor, the substance of which was as follows:
NOTICE.--I will exhibit, at _Quincy Market_, Boston, in a few days,
sample pairs of my fowls, of the following pure breeds; namely,
Cochin-China, Yellow Shanghae, Black Spanish, Fawn-colored
Dorkings, Plymouth Rocks, White Dorkings, Wild Indian, Malays,
Golden Hamburgs, Black Polands, Games, &c. &c; and I shall be happy
to see the stock of other fanciers, at the above place, to compare
notes, etc. etc.
The above was the substance of the "notice" referred to; and the doctor,
coming to Boston shortly after, called upon me. I showed him the
impropriety of this movement at once, and suggested that some spot
other than Quincy Market should be chosen for the proposed
exhibition,--in which I would join, provided an appropriate place should
be selected.
After talking the matter over again, application was made to an
agricultural warehouse in Ann-street, or Blackstone-street, I believe;
the keepers of which saw the advantages that must accrue to themselves
by such a show (which would necessarily draw together a great many
strangers, out of whom they might subsequently make customers); but, at
my suggestion, this very stupid plan was abandoned--even after the
advertisements were circulated that such an exhibition would come off
there.
Upon final consideration it was determined that the first Exhibition of
Fancy Poultry in the United States of America should take place in
November, 1849, at the _Public Garden_, Boston.
CHAPTER II.
THE "COCHIN-CHINAS." BUBBLE NUMBER ONE.
A public meeting was soon called at the legislative hall of the
Statehouse, in Boston, which had the effect of drawing together a very
goodly company of savans, honest farmers, amateurs, poulterers, doctors,
lawyers, flats, fanciers and _humbugs_ of one kind or another. _I_ never
attended one of the meetings; and only know, from subsequent public and
private "reports," what occurred there.
On this _first_ occasion, however, after a great deal of bosh and stuff,
from the lips of old men and young men, who possessed not the slightest
possible shadow of practical knowledge of the subject proposed to be
discussed, it was finally resolved that the name for the (now defunct)
association then and there formed, should be "_The New England Society
for the Improvement of Domestic Poultry_"!!!
Now, the only objection I ever raised to this title was that it was not
sufficiently _lengthy_! When applied to for my own views on the subject,
_I_ recommended that it should be called the "Mutual Admiration
Society." But, though I was thought a great deal of by its
members,--especially when the concern was short of funds,--in _this_
case they thought my proposed title was altogether too applicable; and
the original name, above quoted, was adhered to.
I was honored with the office of vice-president of the society, for
Massachusetts; to which place I was reëlected annually, I believe, until
the period of its death. For which honor I was not ungrateful, and in
consideration of which, "as in duty bound, I have ever prayed" for the
association's prosperity and weal.
The first name that was placed upon the list of subscribers to the
constitution of this society was that of His Excellency Geo. N. Briggs,
formerly Governor of this commonwealth. He was followed by a long list
of "mourners," most of whom probably ascertained, within five years from
the hour when they subscribed to this roll, that causing the cock's spur
_to grow between his eyes_ was not quite so easy a thing to accomplish
as one "experienced poultry-breeder" at this meeting coolly asserted it
to be! How many attempted this experiment (as well as numerous others
there suggested as feasible), I am not advised. But I am inclined to
think that those who did try it found it to be "all in their eye."
While these gentlemen were arranging the details of the new "society,"
and were deciding upon what the duties of the officers and committees
should be, I quietly wrote out to England for information regarding the
somewhat notorious "_Cochin-China_" fowl, then creating considerable
stir among fanciers in Great Britain; and soon learned that I could
procure them, in their purity, from a gentleman in Dublin, whose stock
had been obtained, through Lord Heytsbury (then Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland), direct from Queen Victoria's samples. I ordered six of
them,--two cocks and four hens,--and in December, 1849, I received them
through Adams & Co.'s Transatlantic Express.
At this period there was no telegraph established from Boston to
Halifax, I believe. Some of the reporters for the daily city papers
usually visited the steamers, upon their arrival here, to obtain their
foreign files of exchanges; and here my birds were first seen by those
gentlemen who have made or broken the prospects of more than one
enterprise of far greater consequence than this "importation of fancy
fowls" could seem to be.
But on the day succeeding the coming of those birds, several very
handsome notices of the arrival of these august Chinamen appeared in the
Boston papers, and a vast amount of credit was accorded to the
"enterprising importer" of the outlandish brutes, that were described in
almost celestial language!
After considerable trouble and swearing (custom-house swearing, I mean),
the officers on board permitted my team to take the cage out of the
steamer, and it was conveyed to my residence in Roxbury, where it
arrived two hours after dark.
I had long been looking for the coming of these Celestial strangers, and
the "fever," which I had originally taken in a very kindly way, had by
this time affected me rather seriously. I imagined I had a fortune on
board that steamer. I looked forward with excited ideas to beholding
something that this part of the world had never yet seen, and which
would surely astound "the people," when I could have the opportunity to
show up my rare prize,--all the way from the yards or walks of royalty
itself! I waited and watched, with anxious solicitude,--and, at last,
the box arrived at my house. It was a curiously-built box--the fashion
of it was unique, and substantial, and foreign in its exterior. I
supposed, naturally, that its contents must be similar in character.
That box contained my "Cochin-Chinas,"--bred from the Queen's
stock,--about which, for many weeks, I had been so seriously disturbed.
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF THE "COCHIN-CHINA" FOWL!]
I am _now_ well satisfied that the "Cochin-China" variety of fowl is a
gross fable. If such a breed exist, in reality, we have never had them
in this country. Anything (and everything) has been _called_ by this
name among us, in the last five years; but the engraving on the
following page, in my estimation (and I have been there!), is the
nearest thing possible to a likeness of this _long_ petted bird; and
will be recognized, I think, by more than one victim, as an accurate
and faithful portrait of this lauded "magnificent" and "superb" bird!
I was anxious to examine my celestial friends at once. I caused the box
to be taken into a shed, at the rear of the house, and I tore from its
front a piece of canvas that concealed them from view, to behold
a----well! _n'importe_--they were _Cochin-China_ fowls!
But, since God made me, I never beheld six _such_ birds before, or
since! They resembled _giraffes_ much more nearly than they did any
other thing, carnivorous, omnivorous,--fish, flesh, or fowl. I let them
out upon the floor, and one of the cocks seized lustily upon my
India-rubber over-shoe, and would have swallowed it (and myself), for
aught I know, had not a friend who stood by seized him, and absolutely
choked him off!
This is truth, strange as it may seem; but I presume they had scarcely
been fed at all upon their fortnight's voyage from Dublin, and I never
saw any animals so miserably low in flesh, in my life, before. What with
their long necks, and longer legs, and their wretchedly starved
condition, I never wondered that the friendly reporters spoke of their
appearance as being "extraordinary, and strikingly peculiar."
These were the original "Cochin-China" fowls of America. And they
probably never had the first drop of Chinese blood in their veins, any
more than had the man who bred them, and who knew this fact much better
than I did--who knew it well enough.
I housed my "prize" forthwith, however, and provided them with
everything for their convenience and comfort. The six fowls cost me
ninety dollars. They _were_ beauties, to be sure! When I informed a
neighbor of their cost, he ventured upon the expressive rejoinder that I
"was a bigger d----d fool than he had ever taken me for."
To which I responded nothing, for I rather agreed with him myself!
Nine months afterwards, however, I sold him a cock and three pullets,
four months old, raised from those very fowls, for sixty-five dollars;
and I didn't retort upon him even _then_, but took his money. The
chickens I sold him were "dog-cheap," at that!
[Illustration]
CHAPTER III.
THE FIRST FOWL-SHOW IN BOSTON.
Never in the history of modern "bubbles," probably, did _any_ mania
exceed in ridiculousness or ludicrousness, or in the number of its
victims surpass this inexplicable humbug, the "hen fever."
Kings and queens and nobility, senators and governors, mayors and
councilmen, ministers, doctors and lawyers, merchants and tradesmen, the
aristocrat and the humble, farmers and mechanics, gentlemen and
commoners, old men and young men, women and children, rich and poor,
white, black and grey,--_everybody_ was more or less seriously affected
by this curious epidemic.
The press of the country, far and near, was alive with accounts of
"extraordinary pullets," "enormous eggs" (laid on the tables of the
editors), "astounding prices" obtained for individual specimens of rare
poultry; and all sorts of people, of every trade and profession and
calling in life, were on the _qui vive_, and joined in the hue-and-cry,
regarding the suddenly and newly ascertained fact that hens laid
eggs----_sometimes_; or, that somebody's crower was heavier, larger, or
higher on the legs (and consequently higher in value), than somebody
else's crower. And the first exhibition of the society with the long
name came off duly, at last, as agreed upon by the people, _and_ myself.
"The _people_"! By this term is ordinarily meant the body-politic, the
multitude, the citizens at large, the voters, the--the--a--the masses;
the----well, no matter! At the period of which I am now writing, the
term signified the "hen-men." This covered the whole ground, at that
time. Everybody was included, and thus nobody was left outside!
At this first show, the committee "flattered themselves" (and who ever
heard of, or from, a committee that didn't do this!) that never, within
the memory of the oldest inhabitant,--who, by the way, was then living,
but has since departed to that bourn from which even defunct hen-men do
not return,--never had such a display been witnessed; never had the
feathered race before appeared in such pristine beauty; never had any
such exhibition been seen or read of, since the world begun! And, to say
truth, it wasn't a very bad sight,--that same first hen-show in Boston.
Thousands upon thousands visited it, the newspapers appropriated
column after column to its laudation, and all sorts of people
flocked to the Public Garden to behold the "rare and curious and
inexpressibly-beautiful samples" of poultry caged up there, every
individual specimen of which had, up to that hour, been straggling and
starving in the yards of "the people" about Boston (they and their
progeny) for years and years before, unknown, unhonored and unsung.
Gilded complimentary cards, in beautifully-embossed envelopes, were duly
forwarded by the "committee" to all "our first men," who came on foot or
in carriages, with their lovely wives and pretty children, to see the
extraordinary sight. The city fathers, the public functionaries,
governors, senators, representatives, all responded to the invitation,
and everybody was there.
The cocks crowed lustily, the hens cackled musically, the ducks quacked
sweetly, the geese hissed beautifully, the chickens peeped delightfully,
the gentlemen talked gravely, the ladies smiled beneficently, the
children laughed joyfully, the uninitiated gaped marvellously, the crowd
conversed wisely, the few knowing ones chuckled quietly,--everybody
enjoyed the thing immensely,--and suddenly, prominent among the throng
of admirers present, loomed up the stalwart form and noble head of
Daniel Webster, who came, like the rest, to _see_ what he had only "read
of" for the six months previously.
The committee saw him, and they instantly lighted on him for a speech;
but he declined.
"Only a few words!" prayed one of them.
"One word, _one_ word!" insisted the chairman.
"I can't!" said Daniel.
But they were importunate and unyielding, that enthusiastic committee.
"Gentlemen!" said the honorable senator, at last, amid the din. "Ladies
and gentlemen!" he continued, as a monster upon feathered stilts, at his
elbow, shrieked out an unearthly crow, that drowned the sound of his
voice instanter,--"Ladies and gentlemen, really--I--would--but the noise
and confusion is so great, that I cannot be heard!"--and a roar followed
this capital hit, that drowned, for the moment, at least, even the
rattling, crashing, bellowing, squeaking _music_ of the feathered bipeds
around him.
The exhibition lasted three days. Unheard-of prices were asked, and
readily paid, for all sorts of fowls; most of those sold being mongrels,
however. As high as thirteen dollars was paid by one man (who soon
afterwards became an inmate of a lunatic asylum) for a single pair of
domestic fowls. It was monstrous, ridiculous, outrageous, exclaimed
every one, when this fact--the absolute paying down of thirteen round
dollars, then the price of two barrels of good wheat flour--was
announced as having been squandered for a single pair of chickens.
I _sold_ some fowls at that show. I didn't _buy_ any there, I believe.
The receipts at the gates paid the expenses of the exhibition, and left
a small surplus in the hands of somebody,--I never knew who,--but who
took good care of the money, I have not a doubt; as most of the officers
at _that_ time were, like myself, "poor, but honest."
By the time this fair closed, the pulse of the "dear people" had come to
be rather rapid in its throbs, and the fever was evidently on the
increase. Fowls were in demand. Not _good_ ones, because nothing was
then said by the anxious would-be purchasers about _quality_. Nobody had
got so far as that, then. They wanted _fowls_ only,--hens and cocks,--to
which they themselves gave a name.
Some fancied one breed, or variety, and some another; but anything that
sported feathers,--from the diminutive Bantam to the stork-shaped
Chinaman,--everything was being sought after by "amateurs" and
"fanciers" with a zest, and a readiness to pay for, that did honor to
the zeal of the youthful buyers, and a world of good to the hearts of
the quiet breeders and sellers, who began _first_ to get posted up, and
inured to the disease.
_I_ was an humble and modest member of this latter class. _I_ kept and
raised only _pure_ breeds of fowls.
CHAPTER IV.
HOW "POULTRY-BOOKS" ARE MADE.
Soon after this, I learned that one Asa Rugg, of Pennsylvania (a _nom de
guerre_), was in the possession of a breed of fowls that challenged all
comparison for size and weight. They were called the _Chittagong_ fowl,
and were thus described in the poultry-books published in 1850:
"The fowl thus alluded to has been imported, within the last two or
three years, into Pennsylvania, and ranks at the head of the list, in
that region, for all the good qualities desirable in a domestic bird.
The color is a _streaked grey_, rather than otherwise, and the portraits
below" (my birds) "are fine samples of this great stock. They are
designated as the GREY CHITTAGONGS."
"Asa Rugg," in his letter to me, described this stock as being at the
head of the races of poultry, having "the _largest_ blood in them of any
variety of fowl with which he was acquainted." The pair he first sent me
were light-grey and streaked, and "at less than seven months old weighed
over _nineteen_ pounds."
He said, in that insinuating and delicate manner so peculiar to the
habits of gentlemen who possess what another wishes to buy of them,--"I
did not intend, my dear Mr. B----, to part with these magnificent
specimens at _any_ figure whatever. I assure you I had much rather
retain them; for they are _very_ fine, as you would say, could you see
them. If, however, you are disposed to pay my price, I shall let you
have them. I really shall regret their absence from my yard, however.
Try and make up your mind to be satisfied with something else--won't
you? _These_ fowls I must keep, if possible," &c. &c.
Now, Asa _knew_ very well, if he had charged me two hundred (instead of
twenty) dollars for those grey fowls, I should have taken them from him.
Of course I sent for them at once; and, within ten days, they were in my
poultry-house, a new wonder for the hundreds who called to see my
"superb" and "extraordinary" fowls.
A competitor turned up, a few months after this, a notorious breeder in
P----, who, though a respectable man, otherwise, never knew a hen from a
stove-pipe, but who had more money at that time than I had, and who, in
the hen-trade, possessed the impudence of the devil, without the
accompanying graces to carry out his object.
This man chanced, while in Pennsylvania, to hear Asa speak of _me_, and
at once he stepped in to "head me" in that quarter. He bought all the
"_Grey_ Chittagongs" that Rugg had left (most of which, when they
reached P----, happened to be dark _red_ and _brown_), and forthwith set
up an establishment in _opposition_ to me; for what purpose I never
knew. I did not know him from a side of sole-leather, I had never spoken
to or of him, and I could not comprehend why this person should render
himself, as he did, my future "death's head" in the fowl-trade.
If he went into the traffic for the purpose of making money out of it,
he has found, by this time, I have no doubt, that he would have been, at
the very least calculation, five thousand dollars better off had he
never thrust himself into a business of which he did not know the first
rudiments.
If he embarked in it to interfere with or to injure me, personally, he
has now ascertained, I imagine, that it required a faster horse than
_he_ was in the habit of driving to keep in sight of _my_ team.
If his purpose was the gratification of his own petty spite or ambition
only, he has had to pay for the enjoyment of it,--ay, to his dear
cost!--and he is welcome to all he ever made out of his contemptible,
niggardly huckstering.
Soon after the first exhibition, it was announced by the publishers in
Boston that Dr. Bennett's new Treatise would be immediately issued by
them. The doctor had originally applied to the establishment in which I
was then a partner, to issue this work; but I recommended him to the
others, because our own facilities for getting it out were not so good
as I thought were theirs.
I furnished a considerable amount of the matter for that book, and had
already obtained, at my own individual expense, several of the
engravings which appear in the work spoken of. After the original cuts
were placed in the publishers' hands, they were reduced in size, and
injured (for my purposes), as I conceived, when they finally appeared in
print.
The doctor's book on poultry had been announced again and again; but it
did not make its appearance in the market, in consequence of his
tardiness. Week after week, and month after month, passed by, but still
no Dr. Bennett's book could be found. I saw some of the proof-sheets
finally, observed the fate of the illustrations of _my_ fowls, and made
up my mind what I would do. The book was at last announced positively to
appear in three weeks.
I immediately called at a stereotype foundery, and asked how much time
it would require to stereotype a work of one hundred and fifty pages for
me. I was told that it would occupy three to four weeks to complete it.
"Can't it be done in _one_ week?" I inquired. The proprietor smiled, and
said that this was impossible. I replied, "Well, sir, to-day is Tuesday.
I have engaged to deliver in New York city, on the morning of a week
from next Saturday, three thousand copies of a book _which I am about
to write_. Is there _no_ way that you can help me out?" The gentleman
looked at me incredulously.
I added, "Mr. ----, I have been in the newspaper business a good many
years, and I have had the message of the President of the United
States--a document occupying a dozen columns of solid brevier and
minion--set up and put to press within forty-two minutes from the time
it reached our office. _Anything_ can be accomplished, now-a-days, if we
but will it."
"But, you say you _are about_ to write it. When will the 'copy' be
ready?" said the stereotyper.
"I have thought of this," I replied, "but a few hours. The _title_,
even, is not yet decided upon. I will give you fifty pages of manuscript
to-morrow morning, the next day I will add another fifty, and you shall
have the whole in hand by Friday morning."
He kindly undertook to aid me. I engaged three engravers, who worked day
and night upon the drawings and transfers of the fowls for my
illustrations; the paper was wet down on Monday and Tuesday; I read the
final revised proof of my work on Wednesday night; the book went to
press on Thursday; the binders were ready for it as it came up, the
covers were put on on Friday morning, and I sent to the New York house
(who had bespoken them), by Harnden's Express, on Friday evening, three
thousand five hundred copies of the "NEW ENGLAND POULTRY-BREEDER,"
_illustrated with twenty-five correct engravings_ of _my_ choice,
magnificent, superb, unapproachable, pure-bred fowls.
This book had an extraordinary sale,--far beyond my own calculations,
certainly. I got it out for the purpose of "doing justice" to my own
stock, and calculated that it would prove a good advertising medium for
me,--which it _did_, by the way. But the demand for the "New England
Poultry-Breeder" was immense. And _thirteen_ different editions (varying
from three thousand five hundred to one thousand copies each) were
issued within as many weeks, and were sold, every copy of them. This is
the true history of the "New England Poultry-Breeder."
By and by Dr. Bennett's book appeared. The market was now glutted with
this kind of thing, and this work, though a good one, generally, dragged
on the hands of its originators. I doubt if a thousand copies of this
book ever found their way into the market, the author being too deeply
engrossed with his then thriving trade, to trouble himself about urging
the sale of his book, or of thinking about the interests of his
publishers.
CHAPTER V.
THREATENING INDICATIONS.
Another meeting was now called at the Statehouse, which was even more
fully attended than the first, and at which much more serious
indications of enthusiasm were apparent.
Old men, and middle-aged farmers, and florists, and agriculturists, and
live-stock breeders, from all parts of this and the neighboring states,
congregated together on this eventful occasion, and entered into the
debate with an earnestness worthy of so important and "glorious" a
cause.
Some of the speakers had by this time got to be so elated and so ardent
that they rehearsed all they knew, and some of them told of a great deal
more than themselves or anybody else had ever dreamed of, bearing upon
the subject of poultry-raising. But, really, the subject was an exciting
one, and the talkers were excusable; they couldn't help it!
Shades of morus multicaulis victims! Shadows of defunct tulip-growers!
Spirits of departed Merino sheep speculators! Ghosts of dead Berkshire
pig fanciers! Where were ye all on that eventful night, when six
hundred sober, "respectable" representatives of "the people" were
assembled within the walls of our time-honored state edifice upon Beacon
Hill, in serious and animated conclave, to decide the momentous question
that "hens _was_ hens," notwithstanding, nevertheless!
"Mr. President," exclaimed one of these gentlemen (whose speech was not
publicly reported, I think), "Mr. President, the times is propishus.
We're a-enterin' on a new ery. The _people_ is a-movin' in this 'ere
great, and wonderful, and extraordinary--I may say, Mr. President, this
'ere soul-stirrin' and 'lectrefyin--branch of interestin' rural
erconomy." (Applause, during which the speaker advanced a step or two
nearer to the presiding officer's desk, wiped his nose fiercely upon a
fiery-red bandanna handkerchief, and proceeded.)
"The world, Mr. President," he continued, "is a-growin' wiser ev'ry
day,--I may say ev'ry hour, Mr. President! Ay, sir, ev'ry minute." (Loud
applause, amid which one old gentleman in a bob-wig was particularly
vociferous.)
"I say, Mr. President, the people is a-growin' wiser continu'lly; and by
that expression, sir, I mean to convey the idee that they are a-gettin'
to know more, sir! Who will gainsay this position? Whar's the
man--whar's the er--individooal, sir--that'll stan' up 'ere to-night, in
this hallowed hall, under the shadder of this doom above our heads,
sir, in view of the great American eagle yender,--that 'bird of
promise,' sir,--and dispute the assertion that I now make, Mr.
President, as an American citizen, without fear and without reproach!"
(Deafening shouts of "Nobody! nobody _can_ dispute it!")
"No, _sir_! I think not, I wot not, I ventur' not, I cal'k'late _not_! I
say, Mr. President, it is no use for nun of us to contend agin the
mighty ingine of progress; 'nless we'd like to get our crowns mashed in
for our pains, sir. That's the way it 'pears to _me_; and I've no doubt
that this 'nlitened ordinance now present, sir, will agree with me on
_this_ p'int, and admit the truth that present indications, sir, p'int,
with strikin' force, to the proberble likelihood that the deeds begun
here to-night must be forever perpetooated hereafter, and that--a--they
will--er--go down, sir, to our children, and our children's children, _a
posteriori_, in the futur, forever!" ("Yes, yes!" and thundering
applause.)
"But, sir, the p'int at issoo seems to me to be clear as the broad-faced
sun on a cloudy day. I'm no speaker, sir. I am not the man, sir, that
goes about to proclaim on tops of houses! I'm a quiet citizen, and calls
myself one o' 'the people,' sir. But w'en the questions comes up of
_this_ natur',--w'en it 'pears to me to be so clear and so
transparent,--w'en the people goes abroad, sir, in their might,
and--er--and can't stay ter home,--w'en _such_ things occurs, sir, then
_I'm round_!" (Shouts of "Good! good! good!" the respectable old
gentleman in the bob-wig creating a cloud of dust about him with his
stamping and excited gestures.)
"Mr. President, I have a'most done----" ("No, no! Go on, go on!" from
all parts of the house.)
"No, sir; as I've said afore, I'm no speaker, an' I make no pretenshuns
to oraterry. I'm a plain man, sir; but I feel deeply interested in this
subject." (Nobody had yet ascertained what the "subject" was, because
the gentleman hadn't alluded to any.) "And, sir, I feel that I should be
unjust to myself and to this ordinance ef I did not say what I have,
sir. I go in for the poultry-breedin', sir, all over! Sir,
I love 'em, I love 'em,--an' who shall _dar'_
To chide me for lovin' and praisin' them _'are_?
"I love 'em, sir,--chickens or poultry,--dead or alive. My father afore
me loved 'em, sir; and I'm rejoiced to see the feelin's that's exhibited
here to-night. And, 'less anybody should suspect that I have ventured
upon these few remarks with mercenary motives, Mr. President (though
_perhaps_ no such suppersishun would animate no man's bosom), I will
state, sir, that I have no fowls to sell, sir,--none whatever. _No_,
sir! not a fowl! I'm a buyer, sir,--I want to _buy_," shouted the
excited man,--and he sat down amid the deafening plaudits of his
associates at this meeting, who fully appreciated his speech and his
palpable disinterestedness.
(_Item._--I found this gentleman the next day, and informed him that I
had heard of his destitution. I had understood that he had no poultry,
but was in search of _pure-blooded_ stock. Before night I had fully
supplied him with _genuine_ samples, at thirty dollars a pair, and no
"discount for cash.")
Before this meeting concluded, the prices of fowls, and eggs, and
feathers, were duly discussed, the details of which I will defer to the
next chapter.
But all the indications at this convention were really of a threatening
character; and it would have required the strength of several stout men
to have held certain of the speakers as they got warmed up, and rattled
away, for dear life, upon the advantages that must accrue to the nation,
in a thousand ways, from the encouragement of this epidemic, and the
certain, inevitable losses that must be sustained by "the people" if
they didn't go into this thing with a rush.
Most of these speakers, however, had fowls _for sale_!
CHAPTER VI.
THE EPIDEMIC SPREADING.
While all this was transpiring, my "splendid" Cochin-China fowls had
arrived from England, and I had had a nice house arranged, in which to
keep and exhibit them to visitors.
The pullets began to lay in January, 1850, and immediately afterwards my
trade commenced in earnest, which continued, without interruption, up to
the close of the year 1854.
Among the "monstrosities" presented at the second meeting at the Boston
Statehouse were several propositions that were suggested by
gentlemen-amateurs and farmers in regard to the price that should be
fixed on, by members of the Society with the elongated title, for _eggs_
sold for incubation.
One man thought that _two_ dollars a dozen for most of the fancy kinds
would pay well. This gentleman (I do not remember who he was) probably
calculated to furnish fancy eggs as a certain agricultural concern had
been doing for some months: that is, by first purchasing them at a
shilling a dozen from the eastern packets, or in Quincy Market. The next
man thought that _three_ dollars per dozen would be fair. Another member
believed that _one_ dollar was enough for twelve eggs, "but he didn't
know much about it," he acknowledged; which was pretty evident from his
remarks. At any rate, he had never fed a "laying hen" long enough on
good corn to ascertain how much she would devour while she was
furnishing him with the said twelve eggs, I imagine! One gentleman, more
liberally disposed, probably, ventured to express his willingness to pay
_five_ dollars a dozen for what he wanted. I understood he got home
safely after the meeting, though it was feared he would be mobbed for
his temerity in making this ridiculous offer!
I had already fixed _my_ price for the eggs that were to be dropped by
my "extraordinary and superb" Cochin-China fowls, which by this time had
got to be "the admiration of the State" (so the newspapers said). I had
the _best_ fowls in this world, or in any other; this being conceded by
every one who saw them, there was no necessity of "talking the subject
up" to anybody. I charged _twelve_ dollars a dozen for my eggs--and
never winked at it!
And why shouldn't I have the highest price? Were not my fowls the
"choicest specimens" ever seen in America? Didn't everybody so declare?
Didn't the press and the poultry-books concede this, without an
exception? Well, they did! And so, for months, I obtained one dollar
each for my Cochin-China fowls' eggs; and I received order after order,
and remittance after remittance, for eggs (at this figure), which I
could not _begin_ to supply.
And I didn't laugh, either! I had no leisure to laugh. I filled the
orders as they came,--"first come, first served,"--and for several
months I found my list of promises six or eight weeks in advance of my
ability to meet them with _genuine_ eggs.
I was not so well informed, then, as I was afterwards. I think all the
eggs that were then wanted _might_ have been had. But, as the boy said,
when asked where all the stolen peaches he had eaten were gone, "I
donno!"
Will it be credited that, during the summer of 1850, I had dozens of
full-grown men--gentlemen--but enthusiastic hen-fanciers (who had
contracted the fever suddenly), who came to my residence for
Cochin-China eggs, at one dollar each, and who, upon being informed that
I hadn't one in the house, would quietly sit down in my parlor and wait
two, three, or four hours at a time, _for the hens to lay them a few_,
that they might take them away with them? Such is the fact, however it
may be doubted.
I subsequently sold the eggs at ten dollars a dozen; then at six
dollars; and finally, the third and fourth years, at five dollars. This
paid me, because I sent off a great many.
But they didn't hatch well after having been transported away and shaken
over in the hands of careless and ignorant or reckless express agents.
Thus the buyers came again. Many of the early fanciers tried this
experiment over and over again, but with similar ill-success; and when
they had expended ten, twenty, or thirty dollars, perhaps, for eggs,
they would begin at the _beginning_ aright, and purchase a few chickens
to rear, from which they could finally procure their own eggs, and go
forward more successfully. But all this took time to bring it about.
And meanwhile _somebody_ (I don't say who) was "feathering a certain
nest" as rapidly as a course of high-minded and honorable dealing with
his fellow-men would permit.
CHAPTER VII.
ALARMING DEMONSTRATIONS.
My premises were literally besieged with visitors, and my family
attendants were worn out with answering the door-bell summons, from
morning till night.
"Is Mr. B---- at home? Can we see his Cochin-Chinas? Can we look at Mr.
B----'s fowls? Might we take a look at the chickens?" were the questions
from sun to sun again, almost; and I was absolutely compelled, in
self-defence, to send the fowls away from home, for a while, for the
sake of relief from the continual annoyances to which, in consequence of
having them in my yard, I was subjected.
Fifteen, twenty, often forty callers in a single day, would come to see
my "magnificent" Cochin-China fowls. But I sent them off, and then "the
people" cried for them!
"Who's dead?" queried a stranger, passing my door one day, and observing
the carriages and vehicles standing in a line along the front of my
garden-fence.
"Nobody, I guess," said another; "that's where the _Cochin-Chinas_ are
kept."
"The what?"
"The Cochin-Chinas."
"What's them?"
"Don't you know?"
"No; never heard of 'em, afore."
"Never heard of Burnham's Cochin-Chinas?"
"Never! What are they?"
"Well, I reckon you ha'n't lived in these 'ere parts long, my friend,"
continued the other; "and you'd better step in and look at 'em."
In came the stranger, and after examining the fowls he returned.
"How do you like 'em?" asked the man who had already seen them, and was
waiting for his friend outside.
"They're _ronchers_, that's a fact!" exclaimed the gratified stranger.
And this was the universal opinion.
Nobody had ever seen such fowls (_I_ had seen a good many better
ones!)--nobody had ever beheld any so large, so heavy, so fine. And
every one who came to look at them purchased or engaged either eggs or
chickens from these "extraordinary" and "never-to-be-too-much-lauded"
royal Cochin-China fowls!
For my first broods of chickens (at three and four months old) I readily
obtained twenty-five dollars a pair; and every one of them went off
"like hot cakes" at this figure. It was too low for them, altogether;
and I had occasion to regret, subsequently, that I did not charge fifty
dollars a pair;--a price which I might just as easily then have obtained
as if I had charged but one dollar a pair, as events proved to my
satisfaction.
But everything connected with this fever could not well be learned at
once. I was not a very dull scholar, and I progressed gradually. One
year after the receipt of my Cochins, I got my own price for them, ask
what I might. I sold a good many pairs at one hundred dollars the
couple; and, oftentimes, I received this sum for a trio of them.
Things begun to look up with me. I had got a very handsome-looking stock
on hand, at last; and when my numerous customers came to see me, they
were surprised (and so was _I_) to meet with such "noble" samples of
domestic fowls. "Magnificent!" "Astonishing!" cried everybody.
A splendid open carriage halted before my door, one day, and there
alighted from it a fine, portly-looking man, whom I had never seen
before, and whose name I did not then learn; who, leaving an
elegantly-dressed lady behind in the vehicle, called for me.
I saw and recognized the _carriage_, however, as one of Niles'; and I
was satisfied that it came from the Tremont House. As soon as the
gentleman spoke, I was also satisfied, from his manner of speech, that
he was a Southerner. He was polite and frank, apparently. I invited him
in, and he went to look at my fowls; that being the object, he said, of
his visit.
He examined them all, and said, quietly:
"I'd like to get half a dozen of these, if they didn't come too high;
but I understand you fanciers have got the price up. I used to buy these
chickens for a dollar apiece. _Now_, they say, you're asking five
dollars each for them."
I showed him my stock,--the "_pure_-bred" ones,--and informed him at
once that I had not sold any of _my_ chickens, latterly, at less than
_forty_ dollars a pair.
He was astounded. He didn't want any--much: that is, he wasn't
particular. He could buy them for five dollars; shouldn't pay that,
_no_how; wanted them for his boy; would come again, and see about it,
&c. &c.
A five-year-old stag mounted the low fence at this moment, and sent
forth an electrifying crow, such as would (at that period) have taken a
novice "right out of his boots;" and a beautiful eight-pound pullet
showed herself beside him at the same time. The stranger turned round,
and said:
"There! What is your price for such a pair as that, for instance?"
"Not for sale, sir."
"But you _will_ sell them, I s'pose?"
"No, sir. I have younger ones to dispose of; but _that_ pair are my
models. I can't sell _them_."
The gentleman's eye was exactly filled with this pair of chickens.
"What will you _take_ for those two fowls?"
"One hundred dollars, sir," I replied.
"I guess you will--when you can get it," he added.--"Name your lowest
price, now, for those two. I want _good_ ones, if any."
"I prefer to keep them, rather than to part with them at _any_ price," I
insisted. "If, however, a gentleman like yourself, who evidently knows
what good fowls are, desires to procure the choicest specimens in the
country, why, I confess to you that those are the persons into whose
hands I prefer that my best stock should fall. But I will show you some
at a lower figure," I continued, driving this pair from the fence.
"Don't you! Don't drive 'em away!" said the gentleman;--"let's see.
That's the cock?"
"Yes, sir."
"And this is the hen?"
"Yes."
"One _hundred_ dollars! You don't _mean_ this, of course," he persisted.
"No, I mean that I would rather keep them, sir."
"Well--I'll----_take them_," said the stranger. "It's cruel. But, I'll
take them;" and he paid me five twenty-dollar gold pieces down on the
spot, for two ten-months-old chickens, from my "splendid" Royal
Cochin-China fowls.
He had a tender spot _somewhere_, that I had hit, during the
conversation, I presume. He took the two chickens into his carriage, and
I have never seen or heard from him from that day to this. I trust,
however, if "these few lines" should ever meet his eye, that his poultry
turned out well, and that he himself is in good health and spirits!
I called this gallant young cock "Frank Pierce," in honor of my valiant
friend now of the White House, at Washington. It will be seen that I
thus sold Frank for fifty dollars; a sum which the majority of the
people of this country have since most emphatically determined was _a
good deal more than he ever was worth_!
CHAPTER VIII.
THE FEVER WORKING.
About this time an ex-member of Congress, formerly from Pennsylvania,
was invited to deliver the address before one of the county agricultural
societies of that state (where the fever had now begun to spread with
alarming rapidity), who, in the course of his speech on that occasion,
delivered himself of the following pointed and forcible remark.
Speaking of poultry and the rare qualities of certain domestic fowls, he
said, "Ladies and gentlemen, next to a beautiful woman, and an honest
farmer, I deem a Shanghae cock the noblest work of God!"
Now, this expression might be looked upon, by some persons, as savoring
of demagogism, or, at the least, as an approach to "running this thing
into the ground" (or into the air); but the honorable gentleman no doubt
felt just what he said. I have seen many sensible men who felt worse
than this--a good deal--on this self-same subject; and who expressed
themselves much more warmly in regard to the characteristics and
beauties of domestic poultry; but, to be sure, it was _after_ they had
"gone through the mill," and had come out at the _small_ end of the
funnel.
In New England, especially, prior to the _second_ show of poultry in
Boston, the fever had got well up to "concert pitch;" and in New York
State "the people" were getting to be very comfortably interested in the
subject--where _my_ stock, by this time, had come to be pretty
extensively known.
The expenses attendant upon this part of the business, to wit, the
process of furnishing the requisite amount of information for "the
people" (on a subject of such manifestly great importance), the _quantum
sufficit_ in the way of drawings, pictures, advertisements, puffings,
etc., through the medium of the press, can be _imagined_, not described.
The cost of the drawings and engravings which I had executed for the
press, from time to time, during the years 1850, '51, '52, and '53,
exceeded over eight hundred dollars; but this, with the descriptions of
my "rare" stock (which I usually furnished the papers, accompanying the
cuts), was _my_ chosen mode of advertising. And I take this method
publicly to acknowledge my indebtedness to the press for the kindness
with which I was almost uniformly treated, while I was thus seriously
affected by the epidemic which destroyed so many older and graver men
than myself; though few who survived the attack "suffered" more
seriously than I did, during the course of the fever. For instance, the
large picture of the fowls which I had the pleasure of sending to Her
Majesty Queen Victoria (in 1852), and which appeared in _Gleason's
Pictorial_, the _New York Spirit of the Times_, _New England
Cultivator_, &c., cost me, for the original drawing, engraving,
electrotyping, and duplicating, _eighty-three dollars_.
All these expenses were cheerfully paid, however, because I found my
reward in the consciousness that I performed the duty I owed to my
fellow-men, by thus aiding (in my humble way) in disseminating the
information which "the people" were at that time so ravenously in search
of, namely, as to the person of whom they could obtain (without regard
to price) the _best_ fowls in the country.
This was what "the people" wanted; and thus the malady extended far and
wide, and when the fall of 1850 arrived, buyers had got to be as plenty
as blackberries in August, whilst sellers "of reputation" were, like the
visits of angels, few and far between. _I_ was, by this time, considered
"one of 'em." I strove, however, to carry my honors with Christian
meekness and forbearance, and with that becoming consideration for the
wants and the wishes of my fellow-men that rendered myself and my
"purely-bred stock" so universally popular.
Ah! when I look back on the past,--when I reflect upon the noble
generosity and disinterestedness that characterized all my transactions
at that flush period,--when I think of what I did for "the cause," and
how liberally I was rewarded for my candor, my honesty of purpose, and
my disingenuousness,--tears of gratitude and wonder rush to my eyes, and
my overcharged heart only finds its solace by turning to my ledger and
reading over, again and again, the list of prices that were then paid me
by "the people," week after week, and month after month, for my
"magnificent samples" of "pure-bred" Cochin-China chickens, the original
of which I had imported, and which were _said_ to have been bred from
the stock of the Queen of Great Britain.
But, the Mutual Admiration----I mean, the "Society" whose name was like
"Lengthened sweetness, long drawn out,"
was about to hold its second annual exhibition; and, as the number of
its members had largely increased, and as each and all of those who
pulled the wires of this concern (while at the same time they were
pulling the wool over the eyes of "the people") had plans of their own
in reference to details, I made up my mind, although I felt big enough
to stand up even in this huge hornet's nest of competition, to have
things to suit _my_ "notions."
I _now_ had fowls to sell! I had raised a large quantity of chickens;
winter was approaching, corn was high, they required shelter, the _roup_
had destroyed scores of fowls for my neighbors, and I didn't care to
winter over three or four hundred of these "splendid" and "mammoth"
specimens of ornithology, each one of which could very cleverly dispose
of more grain, in the same number of months, than would serve to keep
one of my heifers in tolerable trim.
Such restrictions were proposed by the officers of the Society with the
lengthened cognomen, that my naturally democratic disposition revolted
against the arbitrary measures talked of, and I resolved to get up an
exhibition of my own, where this matter could be talked over at leisure,
and which I did not doubt would "turn an honest penny" into my own
pocket; where, though I had done _well_ thus far, there was still room,
as there was in hungry Oliver Twist's belly, for "more."
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IX.
THE SECOND POULTRY-SHOW IN BOSTON.
On the 2d, 3d, and 4th days of October, in the year of our Lord 1850,
the "grand exhibition" (so the _Report_ termed it), for that year, came
off at the large hall over the Fitchburg Railroad Dépôt, in Boston,
"which proved a most extensive and inviting one" (so continued the
Report), "far exceeding, both in _numbers_ and in the _quality_ of
specimens offered, anything of its kind ever got up in America.
"The birds looked remarkably fine in every respect, and the undertaking
was very successful. A magnificent show of the feathered tribe greeted
the thousands of visitors who called at the hall, and all parties
expressed their satisfaction at the proceedings.
"The Committee awarded to George P. Burnham, of Melrose, the _first_
premiums for fowls and chickens. The prize birds were the '_Royal
Cochin-Chinas_' and their progeny, which have been bred with care from
his imported stock; and which were generally acknowledged at the head
of the list of specimens."
The prices obtained at this exhibition ranged very high, and "full
houses" were constantly in attendance, day and evening, to examine and
select and purchase from the "pure-bred" stock there. "Mr. Burnham, of
Melrose" (continued the Report), "declined an offer of $120 for his
twelve premium Cochin-China chickens, and subsequently refused $20 for
the choice of the pullets."
"The show was much larger than the first one, and the character of the
birds exhibited was altogether finer, though the old fowls were, for the
most part, moulting. A deep interest was manifested in this enterprise,
and it went off with satisfaction to all concerned," added the Report.
In order that the details of this experiment (which _I_ projected and
carried through, myself) may be appreciated and understood, I extract
from the "official" Report the following items regarding this show, the
expenses, the prize-takers, &c.
The "Committee of Judges," consisting of myself, G.P. Burnham, Esq., and
a gentleman of Melrose, made the following statements and
"observations," in the _Report_ above referred to:
"The Exhibition was visited by full ten thousand persons, during the
three days mentioned. The amount of money received for tickets was four
hundred and seventy-three dollars and thirty-eight cents; and the
following disbursements were made:
Cash paid for rent of hall, $175.00
" " amount of premiums and gratuities, 135.00
" " for lumber and use of tables, 17.60
" " for lighting hall, advertising, etc., 70.40
" " tickets, cards and handbills, 18.21
" " carpenters and attendants, 27.50
" " police and door-keepers, 15.00
" " grain, seed, buckets, pans, etc., 25.56
" " coops, cartage and sundries, 7.37
------
Total expenses, $491.64
Amount received, as stated, 473.38
------
Deficit, $18.26"
When the state of the funds was subsequently more particularly inquired
into, however, it was found that the amount of money actually received
at the door was a little rising _nine_ hundred and seventy dollars,
instead of "_four_ hundred and seventy-three," as above quoted. But this
was a trifling matter; since the "Committee of Judges" spoken of above
accounted for this sum, duly, in the final settlement.
The "Committee" aforesaid awarded the following premiums at this show,
after attending to the examination confided to them--namely:
"_First_ premium, for the best six fowls contributed, to _George P.
Burnham_, of Melrose, Mass., $10.
"For the three best Cochin-China Fowls (Royal), to _George P. Burnham_,
Melrose, Mass., $5.
"For the twelve best chickens, of this year's growth (Royal
Cochin-China), to _George P. Burnham_, Melrose, $5."
And there were some _other_ premiums awarded, I believe, there, but by
which I was not particularly benefited; and so I pass by this matter
without further remark, entertaining no doubt whatever that all the
gentlemen who were awarded premiums (and who obtained the amount of the
awards) exhibited at the Fitchburg Hall Show _pure_-bred fowls.
After making these awards, the "Committee of Judges" (consisting, as
aforesaid, of myself, Mr. Burnham, and a fancier from Melrose) state
that "they find great pleasure"--(mark this!)--"they find great pleasure
in alluding again to the splendid contributions" of some of the
gentlemen who had fowls in this show,--and then the Report continues as
follows:
"The magnificent samples of _Cochin-China_ fowls, contributed by G.P.
Burnham, of Melrose, were the theme of much comment and deserved praise.
These birds include his imported fowls and their progeny--of which he
exhibited nineteen splendid specimens. To this stock the Committee
unanimously awarded the _first_ premiums for fowls and chickens; and
finer samples of domestic birds will rarely be found in this country.
They are bred from the Queen's variety, obtained by Mr. Burnham last
winter, at heavy cost, through J. Joseph Nolan, Esq., of Dublin, and are
unquestionably, at this time, the finest thorough-bred Cochin-Chinas in
America."
My early hen-friend the "Doctor"--alluded to in the opening chapter of
this book--exhibited a fowl which the "Committee" thus described in
their report:
"The rare and beautiful imported _Wild India Game_ hen, contributed by
Mr. B.F. Griggs, Columbus, Geo., was a curiosity much admired. This fowl
(lately sold by Dr. J.C. Bennett, of Plymouth, to Mr. Griggs, for $120)
is thorough game, without doubt; and her progeny, exhibited by Dr.
Bennett, were very beautiful specimens. To this bird, and the '_Yankee
Games_' of Dr. Bennett, the Committee awarded a gratuity of $5."
So miserable a _hum_ as this was, I never met with, in all my long
_Shanghae_ experience. It out-bothered the Doctor's famous "Bother'ems,"
and really out-_Cochined_ even my noted Cochin-Chinas! But I was
content, _I_ was one of the "Committee of Judges." I had forgot!
This Committee's Report was thus closed:
"It has been the aim of the Committee to do _justice_ to all who have
taken an interest in the late Fowl Exhibition, and they congratulate
the gentlemen who have sustained this enterprise upon its success."
They did _ample_ justice to this Wild Bengal Injun Hen, that is certain.
The Cochin-China trade received an impulse (after this show concluded)
that astonished even _me_, and I am not easily disturbed in this
traffic. And I have no doubt that the people who paid their money to
witness this never-to-be-forgotten (by me) exhibition, were also
satisfied.
The experiment was perfectly successful, however, throughout. I
forwarded to all my patrons and friends copies of this Report,
beautifully illustrated; and the orders for "_pure_-bred chickens from
the _premium_ stock" rushed in upon me, for the next four or five
months, with renewed vigor and spirit.
This first exhibition at the Fitchburg Dépôt Hall proved to me a
satisfactorily profitable advertisement, as I carried away all the
premiums there that were of any value to anybody. But then it will be
observed that the "Committee of Judges" of this show were my "friends."
And, at that time, the competition had got to be such that all the
dealers acted upon the general democratic principle of going "for the
greatest good of the greatest number." In my case, I considered the
"greatest number" Number _One_!
CHAPTER X.
THE MUTUAL ADMIRATION SOCIETY'S SECOND SHOW.
In the month following, to wit, on the 12th, 13th and 14th of November,
1850, the second annual exhibition of the Simon Pure Society with the
extended title was held at the Public Garden, in Boston.
No premiums were offered by the society this year, and there wasn't much
to labor for. I was a contributor, and I believe I was elected a member
of the Committee of Judges that year. How, I did not know. At any rate,
I wrote the published _Report_ upon the exhibition. A Mr. Sanford Howard
was chairman of this committee, if I remember rightly; and though
undoubtedly a very respectable and well-meaning man (if he had not been
so, he wouldn't have been placed on a Committee of Judges with _me_, I
imagine), this Mr. Howard knew positively _nothing_ whatever in regard
to the merits or faults of poultry generally. He had acquired some vague
notions about what he was pleased to term "crested" fowls, and
five-toed, white-legged, white-plumed, white-billed, white-bellied
Dorkings,--of which he conversed technically and learnedly; but as to
his knowledge of the different varieties and breeds of domestic poultry
then current, and their characteristics, it was evidently warped and
very limited.
But Mr. Howard had been connected for some months with a small monthly
publication in New York State, and, like myself, I presume, among the
board (God knows who they were, but _I_ don't, and never did!) who
originally chose this "Committee," he had "a friend at court," and was
made _chairman_ of the committee too,--_how_, I never knew, either.
In their Report, the Committee observe, again, that "_never_ in this
country, if in the world, was there collected together so large a number
of domestic fowls and birds as were sent to this exhibition, probably;
and, though the most liberal arrangements were made in advance, it was
found that the accommodations, calculated for _ten thousand specimens_,
were entirely insufficient. The Committee merely allude to this fact to
show the actual extent of this enterprise, and the importance which the
undertaking has assumed, in a single year from the birth of the
Association.
"According to the records of the Secretary, there were contributed to
the Society's exhibition of 1850 some four hundred and eighty coops and
cages. There were in all over three hundred and fifty contributors; in
addition to which about forty coops, containing some six hundred fowls,
were sent to the Garden and received on exhibition upon the two last
days of the Show; and which could not be recorded agreeably with the
regulations made originally.
"The palpable improvement in the appearance of the fowls exhibited in
1850, as compared with the samples shown in 1849, offers ample
encouragement to breeders for _further and more extended efforts_; and
your Committee would urge it upon those who have already shown
themselves competent to do so much, _to go on and effect still greater
progress_ in the improvement of the poultry of New England."
This Report (the second of the series) did _my_ stock ample justice, I
have not a doubt. I wrote it myself, and intended that it should do so.
The text was in nowise changed when printed, and a reference to the
document (for that year) will convince the skeptical--if any
exist--whether I was or was not acquainted with adjectives in the
superlative degree!
A very singular occurrence took place about this time, the _basis_ of
which I did not then, and have never since, been able to comprehend,
upon any principles of philosophy, economy, business, benevolence, or
even of sanity. But I am not very clear-headed.
In the _addenda_ to my Report (above named) there appeared the annexed
statement, by somebody:
"The Trustees refer to the following with mixed pride and pleasure; the
munificence and motive of the gift are most creditable. A voluntary
kindness such as that of Mr. Smith is a very gratifying proof that the
labors of the Society are not regarded by enlightened men as vain:
"_Boston, 12th February, 1851._
"G.W. SMITH, ESQ.
"SIR: A meeting of the Trustees of the 'New England Society for the
Improvement of Domestic Poultry' was held last evening, Col. Samuel
Jaques, President of the Society, in the chair, and a full quorum
being present, when the Treasurer announced the receipt of your
very handsome _donation of one hundred and fifty dollars_ in aid of
the Society's funds; whereupon it was moved, and unanimously
agreed, that the most grateful thanks of the Society were justly
due to you for such a munificent testimony of your desire for its
prosperity; that the Secretary communicate to you the assurance of
the high appreciation with which the donation was received; and
that its receipt, and also a thankful expression of gratitude
towards you, should be placed on the records of the Society.
"I can only reiterate the sentiments contained in my instructions,
in which I fully and gratefully concur; and, with best wishes for
your long-continued welfare,
"I am, sir, very truly yours,
"JOHN C. MOORE, _Rec. Secretary_."
Now, it will be observed that this was not _John_ Smith who presented
this sum, but another gentleman, and a different sort of individual
altogether. He gave it (one hundred and fifty dollars in hard cash) the
full value of a nice pair of my _best_ "pure-bred" Cochin-Chinas,
without flinching, without any fuss, outright, freely, "in aid of the
Society's funds."
Liberal, generous, benevolent, charitable, kindly Mr. Smith! You did
yourself honor! _You_ were one of the kind of men that I should very
much liked to have had for a customer, about those days. But, after due
inquiry, I ascertained that you did not keep, or breed, poultry. You
were only a "friend" to the Society with the elongated name,--the _only_
friend, by the way, it ever had! Heaven will reward you, Mr. Smith,
sooner or later, for your disinterestedness, but the Society never can.
Be patient, however, and console yourself with the reflection that he
who giveth to the poor, lendeth, &c. &c. The Society with the
long-winded title was _poor_ enough, and you cannot have forgotten that
he who casteth his bread (or money) upon the waters will find it, after
many days. You will find yours again, I have no doubt; but it will be
emphatically "after _many_ days."
The second show closed, the expenses of which reached the sum of one
thousand and twenty-seven dollars eighteen cents, and the receipts at
which amounted to one thousand and seventy-nine dollars eighty-four
cents, exclusive of the above-named donation. The Society had now a
balance of two hundred and two dollars sixty-six cents in hand, and it
went on its way rejoicing.
COL. JAQUES (the first President) now "resigned his commission," and
MOSES KIMBALL, Esq., was chosen in his stead. I found myself once more
among the Vice Presidents, John C. Moore was elected Secretary, Dr. Eben
Wight was made Chairman of the Board of Trustees, and H.L. Devereux
became Treasurer for the succeeding year.
These officers were all "honorable men" who were thus placed in position
_to watch each other_! The delightful consequences can readily be
fancied. What my own duties were (as Vice-President) I never knew. I
supposed, however, that, as "one of 'em" thus elevated in official rank,
I was expected to do my uttermost to keep the bubble floating, and to
aid, in my humble way, to maintain the inflation. And I acted
accordingly; performing my duty "as I understood it"!
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XI.
PROGRESS OF THE MALADY.
Immediately after this second exhibition, the sales of poultry largely
increased. Everybody had now got fairly under weigh in the hen-trade;
and in every town, at every corner, the pedestrian tumbled over either a
fowl-raiser or some huge specimen of unnameable monster in chicken
shape.
I had been busy, and had added largely to my "superior" stock of
"pure-blooded" birds, by importations from Calcutta, Hong-Kong, Canton
and Shanghae, direct. In two instances I sent out for them expressly,
and in two or three other instances I had obtained them directly from on
shipboard, as vessels arrived into Boston and New York harbors.
I was then an officer in the Boston Custom-house,--a democrat under a
whig collector,--otherwise, a live skinned eel in a hot frying-pan. But
I found that my business had got to be such that I could not fulfil my
duty to Uncle Sam and attend appropriately to what had now got to be of
very much greater importance to me; and so I resigned my situation as
Permit Clerk at the public stores, very much to the regret of everybody
in and out of the Custom-house, and especially those who were applicants
for my place!
I had purchased a pretty estate in Melrose, and now I enlarged my
premises, added to my stock, and raised (during the summer and fall of
1851) over a thousand fowls, upon my premises. This did not begin to
supply the demands of my customers, however, or even approach it. And,
to give an idea of my trade at that period, I will here quote a letter
from one of my new patrons. It came from the interior of Louisiana, in
the fall of 1851.
"GEO. P. BURNHAM, ESQ., BOSTON.
"I am about to embark in the raising of poultry, and I hear of
yourself as an extensive breeder in this line. Do me the favor to
inform me, by return mail, what you can send me _one hundred pairs_
of Chinese fowls for, of the yellow, red, white, brown and black
varieties; the cocks to be not less than eight to ten months old,
and pullets ready to lay; say twenty pairs of each color. And also
state how I shall remit you, in case your price suits me, &c.
"---- ----."
I informed this gentleman that I had just what he wanted (of course),
and that if he would remit me a draft by mail for fifteen hundred
dollars--though this price was really too low for them--I would forward
him one hundred pairs of fowls "that would astonish him and his
neighbors." Within three weeks from the date of my reply to him, I
received a sight draft from the Bank of Louisiana upon the Merchants'
Bank, Boston, for fifteen hundred dollars. I sent him such an invoice of
fowls as pleased him, and I have no doubt he was (as he seemed to be)
perfectly satisfied that he had thus made the best trade he ever
consummated in the whole course of his life.
During the next spring I bred largely again, and supplied all the best
fanciers in New England and New York State with stock, from which _they_
bred continually during that and the succeeding year.
In the spring of 1852 the Mutual Admiration Society of hen-men got up
their _third_ show, at the Fitchburg Dépôt (in _May_, I think), where a
goodly exhibition came off, and where there were now fowls _for sale_ of
every conceivable color and description, good, bad, and indifferent. I
contributed as usual, and, as usual, carried away the palm for the
_best_ samples shown. And here was evinced some of the shifts to which
certain hucksters resorted, to make "the people" believe that white was
black, that they originally brought this subject before the public eye,
and that _they_ only possessed the pure stock then in the country.
Reverends, and doctors, and deacons, and laymen,--all were there, in
force. Every man cried down every other man's fowls, while he as
strenuously cried up his own. Upon one cage appeared a card vouching
for the fact that a certain _original_ Shanghae crower within it, all
the way from the land of the Celestials, weighed fourteen pounds and
three ounces, and that a hen, with him, drew nine pounds six ounces
(almost twenty-four pounds). When the birds were weighed, the first drew
ten and a half pounds, and the other eight and a quarter only. This
memorandum appeared upon the box of a _clergyman_ contributor, who had
understood that size and great weight only were to be the criterion of
merit and value thenceforward. Another contributor boldly declared
himself to be the original holder of the only good stock in America. A
third claimed to be the father of the current movement, and had a gilded
vane upon his boxes which he asserted he had had upon his poultry-house
for five years previously. Another stated that all my fowls (there
shown) were bred from _his_ stock. And still another proclaimed that the
identical birds which I contributed were purchased directly of him; he
knew every one of them. Finally, one competitor impudently hinted that
my birds actually then belonged to _him_, and had only been _loaned_ to
me (for a consideration) for exhibition on this occasion!
When the fair closed, however, the matter was all set right, as may be
gathered from the following extract from the official Report of the
third show, of the Committee of Judges, of which I was _not_ a member:
"At this third Boston Show," says the Committee, "the best and most
faultless descriptions of Red and Buff Shanghaes were shown by G.P.
Burnham, Esq., and others. And of the Cochin-Chinas, the specimens of
Geo. P. Burnham, etc., were each and all notable, and worthy of public
appreciation."
This was satisfactory to me, and I made the most of this "werry
fav'rable opinion" of the august Committee,--who added the following, in
their Report, in reference to the action of Southern purchasers:
"It seems, from reliable information received by members of the
Committee, that fowls raised in New England, and exported South,
attain to a much larger size, and are vastly more prolific, than in
our colder climate. This is specially so in reference to the
produce of stocks recently imported from the East, namely, the
Shanghaes, Cochin-China fowls, and others of larger varieties. _So
sensible have some of the most eminent Southern breeders become
that such is the case, that they are annually in the habit of
buying their young stock from the Northern States, and they find
the system profitable._ In this way, New England bids fair to
become the supply-market, in a great measure, for the South and
West."
This was beautiful! "_Annually_ in the habit." I liked _that_ portion
of it. And Southern buyers seemed to like it, too, judging from the
manner in which orders poured in upon us, after this gentle hint from
_such_ authority! I believe that the Chinese fowls really did better in
the South than they did with us, this way. At least, I _hope_ they did!
CHAPTER XII.
MY CORRESPONDENCE.
By this time my correspondence with gentlemen in all parts of America
and Great Britain had got to be rather extended. I took from the
post-office from ten to twenty-five or thirty letters, daily; and
amongst them were some curious samples of orthography, etymology,
syntax, and prosody. I offer the annexed specimens--of course without
names or dates--merely to show how the young aspirants for fame (in the
poultry-trade) felt, about those days; and, also, to give some idea of
the progress of the fever among us, as time passed by, etc. etc.
No. 1.
SIR--MR. BURNHAM;
i red in Nu england poultry breeder that yu kep fouls an aigs for
sail. i want one duzen aigs if tha doant cum tu tu mutch. ime a
poor mann an carnt pa a gret pris. wot can yu cend me a duzen of
yure best aigs for. ansur by male and direck yure leter tu me tu
mi dress.
Yr Respec'y, &c.
---- ----.
No. 2.
MY DEAR SIR:
I am a poor clergyman, and I have some leisure, which I can devote
to raising a few good fowls. If your price is not too high for the
rather limited contents of my purse, please inform me, by return of
mail, what you can furnish me with _pure_ Cochin-China eggs for. I
am desirous to procure a few; and I prefer that you would select
for me,--in a half-dozen, say two _male_ and four _female_ eggs. I
suggest this, because I am informed that your long experience in
this interesting branch of rural economy has enabled you to decide
(upon examining them) whether eggs will produce cocks or pullets.
Your early answer will confer a favor on,
Sir, yours, truly,
---- -- ----.
No. 3.
MR. BURMAN:
I close you ten dolls. Cend me a doz. of your Cotchen Chiny eggs
rite away--cause I hav a hen thats been a setting on some stones I
put under her now most a week. You rote me that you would hav them
about this time, you know. Cend them by ----'s Express, and tell
the man who fetches them not to turn the box over, at all. I want
half and half--that is to say, half cock eggs, and half hen eggs.
You know what I mean by this. Them that has the sharp ends on to
one side--them's the cocks, and them that's round and smooth at
both ends--them's the hens. Forwud immediately, and mark _with care
glass this side up--don't shake this with speed_.
Yours, &c.
---- ----.
No. 4.
G.P. BURNHAM, ESQ.
DEAR SIR: I saw your beautiful Cochin-China fowls last week, in the
paper, and am desirous to obtain a few eggs from them, if possible.
Will they hatch under our common hens? Or, must we have the _pure_
bloods to sit upon them? I am a novice, somewhat, in this business.
I enclose you twelve dollars (the price for a dozen, I believe),
which please forward, at your early convenience, by express, and
oblige
Yours, &c.
---- -- ----.
No. 5.
FRIEND BURNHAM:
Enclosed please find ten dollars for another dozen of your _pure_
Cochin-China eggs. The first ones you sent me (from some cause)
did not hatch. I have kept a hen (a very good sitter, too) upon
that first lot, _constantly_, for four weeks, now--and I don't
believe I shall get a chick, you see! So, please forward these now,
_right away_--because my hen will get tired of waiting, you know,
if I don't keep her right along, steady. The $10 you will find
within.
Yours, resp'y,
---- ----.
P.S. Can you inform me what is good for _lice_ on fowls? I find
that my hen is covered with a million of them, now. Don't forget
this, please.[1]
No. 6.
SUR--wen i cum to boston nex weak i want to see yure poltry i am a
ole hand at the bizness myself an I like to see good kinds of
poltry every ware. i see yurn in the paper an i like them verry
much can yu sel a hen without a cock, i have sevral cocks now of
the _black dawkin_ pure bred and fine an i would change one of them
with yu for a cochon chiner hen if yu say so. answer by fust male.
Yure in haist
---- ----.
Mr. P.G. Barnum,}
boston.}
No. 7.
DEAR SIR: Yours duly received. I did not suppose that the price of
the "Cochins" was so high--but I must have a trio of them, at _any_
figure. I enclose you fifty dollars for them, agreeably with your
proposal, relying upon your known good taste in selections, and
upon your proverbial reputation as regards the keeping only of
_pure_ stock. Send them by Adams & Co.'s Express, in a roomy cage.
If they are prime, my neighbors will very shortly order from you, I
am sure.
Yours, resp'y,
---- -- ----.
No. 8.
MR. BARNAM:
Them two fowls I bought of you, by seeing the pictur in the
newspaper, and which I paid you $35 cash down on the nail for, aint
what they're cracked up to be--not by a long short, sir. Now, what
I want you to do is to sen me back my munney, or I'll prosecute you
and put you in prizon for cheating people by false pertences. I was
so mad when I took them out of the box that I'd a good mine to kill
an eat em both on the spot.[2] I aint no _hen_-man, I'd have you to
understan, an you can't come none of this kine of nonsense over
_me_. Sen me back my munney, or I'll complain of you in tu days
before a Justis of the Peas--a friend of mine, that'll give you
_fits_ if you _air_ a big man. I don't keer for that. I want my
munney. The fowls is both sick, too. Answer this tu once, or els
sen me back my munney.[3]
---- -- ----.
No. 9.
G.P. BURNHAM; ESQ.:
I saw a cage of superb Cochin-China fowls from your yard,
yesterday, _en route_ to Mobile. Can you duplicate them? If so, at
what price? I had understood that a Mr. ---- kept choice fowls. I
visited his place, but saw none there that seemed worth the taking
away. If you can send me such a trio as I saw at Adams & Co.'s, let
me know it immediately, and your price for them. How shall I remit
you?
Yours, &c.
---- ----.
No. 10.
MR. BURNHAM:
I enclose you one hundred dollars, by check on Shoe and Leather
Dealers' Bank, Boston (No. 417), to your order, for the fine fowls
you describe in yours received this day. They should be _good_
ones, as I have no doubt they are. Forward, at once,
And believe me,
Yours,
---- -- ----.
No. 11.
G.B. BURNHAM, BOSTON.
SIR: When I paid you $25 (twenty-five dolls.) for a pair of
_Cochin-China_ chickens, according to your own terms, I did not
suppose you would dare to send to _me_ (whom you must know to be a
judge of all kinds of poultry) a pair of _Shanghaes_, instead of
those I ordered![4] I want none but _pure_-bred fowls in my
collection, nor will I have them there, either. I have now a plenty
of the Shanghaes, and I ordered a pair of Cochin-Chinas of you.
Now, I want to know what you will do in this matter. Will you send
me a pair of _Cochins_, or not? That is all I want to know at
present. From
Yours, truly,
---- ----.
P.S. I am a lawyer by profession; and I submit to no imposition of
this sort, you may be sure.
No. 12.
G.P. BURNHAM.
MY DEAR SIR:
The magnificent "Cochin-China" birds you forwarded me last are the
admiration of every one who beholds them; and I am greatly your
debtor for this superb lot of fowls. My neighbor, Hon. Mr. M----,
desires me to request you to forward him four as nearly like mine
as possible, and your draft on me, at sight, for the cost, will be
duly honored. He can afford (and is willing) to pay liberally for
them.[5] Charge him accordingly; but be careful that you do not
send him finer samples than _mine_ are,--which, by the way, I do
not think possible. I enclose you draft for $120, on Merchants'
Bank, Boston, for your bill. And am
Yours, truly,
---- ----.
No. 13.
SIR--I hav alwas heerd yu was a scamp, and now I _know_ yu are.[6]
Them egs yu sent me was smasht all up, an they was runnin' down the
sides of the box. What am I to do with them, sir--do yu think? Do
yu spose I've gut money so plenty as to throw it way in this
manner? Yu didn't put in _harf_ meal anuf, and the hole of them was
spilte, besides being roten I hav no manner of dout. Now if yu send
me back the six dolls. that the postmaster see me put into my fust
letter to yu, all's well an good. And ef yu don't, see if I don't
publis yu and yure caracter tu the hole wurld yu infermus cheet yu.
Yu'd aughter be ashamed tu send a man egs that wa, anny how. So no
more at present tell I heer from yu.
---- ----.
No. 14.
FRIEND BURNHAM:
I have heard creditable accounts of thy poultry (of the
Cochin-China variety), and I am induced from common rumor to
believe thee a man who dealeth justly and honorably. I desire to
procure a few of these choice fowls, if not too expensive; and will
thank thee to inform me what thy price is for such, at ages varying
from four to eight months old. Thy early reply will oblige thy
friend and well-wisher,
---- ---- ----.
No. 15.
G.P. BURNHAM, ESQ.--DEAR SIR: Send me ten trios more of the
Cochin-China chickens, _immediately_. If you can put them down to
$35 the trio, now, it will leave me a better margin. All the others
are sold, at $60 the trio. Enclosed is draft on Bank of Commerce,
Boston, for $400.
In haste, yours,
---- ----.
No. 16.
SIR--
I want tu get sum coshin chiney aggs, them as will hatch out
chickns with fethers onto the leggs an no mistaik. if you got them
kind yu can cend me wun dusen an i will cen yu bak the munny wen
the chickns is hached with fethers onto there leggs not otherwise.
If yu dont like tu cend them on this turms yu can keepe 'em
yureself. I bort too duzsen eg in bostun an their wasn't none of em
had no fethers on the leg, i mene the chick'ns, wen tha was hached.
an I dont expek i shall be fuled no mor by no such humbugg by a
good dele. i pade my munny for genwine aigs and I donte see no
reesun wy peeple isn't onnest. How could i tell wether their was
chickns in the egs or not? of course i cou'dn't. and i doant
consider sech bissiness no bettern than cheetin rite out. i bort em
_twict_ this wa, an i sharnt be fuled agin arter waitin as I did
both times over three weeks. ef yu will plese to sen me the pure
aigs abuv menciond and wate tell tha hach fether leggs chickns,
well an good, ive no dout yu air a onnest man, cos all the
noospapers pufs yu. But sum of the hen traiders aint no better than
thaid oughter be--that's _my_ pinion.[7]
Yours &c. etc.
---- ----.
No. 17.
MR. P.B. BURNUM; Sur,
If you hav enny of them big Cokin Shiney fowl, that eat off tops of
flour barils, I want sum. I gut a big nufoulan dogg that ways hard
onto 140 pouns, and I want tu cell him, an git sum of them Cokin
Shinys. This dogg is a gud dogg and dont eat much. I feed him on
fish and hoggs hasslits and it dont cost much to keep him. He bitt
a pedler's arm most off yisterday, but he woudnt be much trubble to
you, if you kep him chaind _all the time_ sose he couldnt bite
nobody. If you will rite me what you ask for yure fowls, I will
inform you what I ask for my dog. I dont want none nless thay can
eat off tops of flour barrils, of course. Them's the kind for
me.[8] Anser by return mail.
Yours Resp'y,
---- ----.
[Illustration: THE SHANGHAE REFERRED TO IN LETTER NO. 17.--(See page
80.)]
No. 18.
G.P. BURNHAM, ESQ.:
I have got a Shanghae cock weighing 15-1/2 pounds, and I want a few
hens to match him. Can you supply me? My crower stands three feet
four inches high, and his middle toe measures 7-1/2 inches in
length. What do you think of that? I want six twelve-pound hens.
Dr. Bennett can supply me, I presume; but I want _pure_-bred stock.
I have no doubt my crower will weigh eighteen or nineteen pounds,
at two years old; he is now only eight months old! Let me hear from
you.
Resp'y, ---- -- ----.
No. 19.
MR. BURNHAM:
I always took you to be a man of honor, and I supposed _you_ knew
(if anybody did) what a Cochin-China fowl was, because you imported
your stock. Now, those you sent me, and for which I willingly paid
you $40 for the three, are feathered on the legs; this should _not_
be, of course. How is this? They are fine, but I am certain they
can be nothing but mere Shanghae fowls. Let me know about this,
will you?
Yours, &c.
---- -- ----.
No. 20.
MY DEAR SIR:
I hardly know what to write you about the stock I had of you, six
months ago, for "Cochin-Chinas." That they are _not_ Cochins I feel
positive, however; for one half the chickens came smooth-legged,
and the rest are heavily-feathered on the legs!! I consider them
only _Shanghaes_, and now I want to know if you can send me a trio
of _pure_ bloods, that you _know_ to be Cochins. If so, I care
nothing about price. I want _blood_. "Blood tells," you know. Let
me hear from you, and state your own views in this matter. I will
be governed by your advice. Enclosed is ten dollars for a dozen of
your "Cochin" eggs--_pure_, you know.
In haste,
Yours truly, ---- ----.
No. 21.
MR. BURNHAM.
SIR: Do you call yourself a man of honor? I bought one doz.
Cochin-China eggs of you, for which I paid you six dollars, cash. I
set them, and I got but _ten_ chickens out of them (two eggs I
found rotten, in the nest). Every one of these chicks are cocks,
sir--_cocks_! Now, what the devil can _I_ do, do you imagine, with
ten cocks? I want to breed fowls. That is what I bought the eggs
for; to begin _right_. You must have _known_ better than this.
Anybody could have seen that these were all male eggs. _I_ saw it,
at once (I remember), but I _hoped_ I was mistaken. What do you
propose to do about this? Let me know, _at once_, without fail.
In haste,
---- -- ----.
No. 22.
SIR: You may think well of the Cochin-China fowls,--I _don't_.
Those you sent me are long-legged, and there are no feathers on
their legs, or feet, as there _ought_ to be. _I_ know what a
Cochin-China fowl is, too well to be deceived in this way. I will
keep them. _You are a humbug._ You are welcome to the thirty
dollars I paid you. I don't ask you to return it. I don't want it.
I can get along very well without it. You need it. Keep it. Much
good may it do you!
In haste,
---- ----.
P.S. Don't you wish you may get another $30 out of me, that way? O,
yes--I guess you will--ha! ha!
No. 23.
MR. BARMAN. Dear Sir: I see in the Poultry Books that the
Cotchin-China fowls lays two eggs every day,[9] and sometimes
three a-day. I have hens that lays two eggs a-day, frequenly, but I
want to get the breed that will lay _three_ eggs a-day, reglar. If
you have got anny of the Cotchins that you _know_ lays three eggs
a-day, I would like to get a few, at a fair price. I don't pay no
fancy prices for 'em, though. The hen fever won't larst forever, I
don't believe; and then when its busted up, what's the fowls good
for, even if they _do_ lay three eggs a-day? Let me hear from
you,--but don't send any fowls unless you are _sure_ they lay three
eggs every day!
Yours, &c.,
---- ----.
No. 24.
MR. BURNHAM.--SIR: I am a gentleman, and I have no disposition to
be fractious. I sent you twelve dollars, in a letter, for a dozen
"Cotchin" eggs, and I set them. After waiting twenty-three days, I
found two grizzled-colored chickens in the nest yesterday, both of
them with huge _top-knots_ on their polls! What does this mean? Am
I to be swindled out of my money thus? By return of mail if you do
not refund my money, if I live I will prosecute you, if it costs
me a thousand dollars. You may rely on this. I am not a man to be
trifled with, and I refer you to Messrs. ---- & ----, who know me;
you evidently do _not_!
In haste,
---- ----.
[I did not reply to this spicy favor, because, if the gentleman really
was not a "fractious" man, I imagined he would like his pure-bred
chickens better as they grew up; and, besides, I could afford to wait
for "a gentleman" to cool off. I never heard from him, afterwards; and
concluded that he didn't _live_ to carry out his laudable intention of
expending a thousand dollars in prosecuting me! I trust that, before he
departed, he became hopefully pious. Peace to his manes!]
No. 25.
SIR: Them fouls you sent me, got the sore-hed. I gin em tuppentyn
and unyuns and brandy, but it want no use. The poletry books sed
so, and I follered the direction, and _it killed 'em both deader'n
thunder, in one night_! Now you've gut my mony, and I haint narry
fowls. What'll I do? Don't you think this a pooty impersition? Send
me another pear, to once--if you don't want _fits_.
In haist,
---- ----.
[I sent this man "another _pear_,"--only I didn't!]
[1] After a hen had set over four weeks on her nest, I should suppose
she _might_ have been thus affected!
[2] O, the cannibal!
[3] I never heard from this customer again, and should now be glad to
know if he ever got his "munney"!
[4] _Here_ was a "lawyer," who knew the difference between a
Cochin-China and a Shanghae!
[5] This was the kind of gentleman I loved to fall in with.
[6] _Some_ persons would consider this personal!
[7] I would liked to have seen the dealer that could "fule" this
customer more than "twict."
[8] I informed this purchaser that I could send him a pair which, if
they "couldn't eat off the tops" of his flour-barrels, I'd warrant would
eat up the _contents_ of one as quickly as he could desire!
[9] "This gigantic bird," says Richardson, a noted English writer, "is
very prolific, _frequently laying two, and occasionally three eggs on
the same day_!" And, in support of this monstrous assertion, he
subsequently refers, as his authority for this statement (which was
called in question), to the "Rt. Hon. Mr. Shaw, Recorder of Dublin, to
Mr. Walters, Her Majesty's poultry-keeper, and to J. Joseph Nolan, Esq.,
of Dublin." This was, in _my_ opinion, one of the hums of the time, and
I never had occasion to change that opinion. I do not believe the hen
that _really_ laid two eggs in one day ever lived to do it a second
time! I have _heard_ of this thing, however. But I never knew of the
instance, myself.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE QUESTION.
The foregoing are only a very few samples of hundreds upon hundreds of
similar letters I constantly received, for nearly five years.
All the blame occasioned by careless express-men, of false blood imposed
upon me originally, of tardy hens, of the hatching or non-hatching of
eggs transported hundreds of miles, of feathered legs upon chickens, or
the absence of them, of every species of mishap that could by any
possibility befall the fancier and amateur, through his own ignorance or
errors,--every kind of mistake was charged to _me_! But, with a
Christian meekness, I bore it all.
I was threatened with civil prosecutions, with the House of Correction,
the State Prison, the Penitentiary, and all sorts of other punishments,
for my remissness; but I submitted with a quiet resignation, because
"the people" were so deeply engaged in this pursuit, and everybody now
had the fever so shockingly, that I sympathized with all mankind, and
attributed these trifling ebullitions of ill-will, or raving, to the
spasms caused by the prevalence and the severity of the epidemic.
On the other hand, I was so often cheered on in my labors of love by the
kind consideration of a very different sort of patrons, that I did not
sink under the persecution of those who would gladly have floored me,
could the thing have been readily accomplished. I pocketed the money of
my customers, however, bred good fowls, followed up the trade sharply,
and found myself sailing easily along, in spite of the contemptible and
small-fry opposition of which I was continually the object. As an
agreeable offset to the complaints and murmurings in certain quarters,
the following few letters will tell their own story:
From Hon. Henry Clay.
_Ashland, 1851._
GEO. P. BURNHAM, ESQ., BOSTON.
MY DEAR SIR: I duly received your obliging letter, informing me
that you had sent by the Express of Messrs. Adams & Co. a cage
containing four fowls for me, and I postponed acknowledging it
until the fate of the fowls should be ascertained. I have now the
satisfaction to advise you that they all reached here safely.
They have been greatly admired, not only for their enormous size,
but for their fine proportions and beautiful plumage. I thank you,
my dear sir, most cordially, for this very acceptable present. It
has been my aim, for many years, to collect at this place the best
improved breeds of the horse, the cow, the sheep, swine and the
ass--though the last, not the least valuable, in this mule-raising
state.
To my stock on hand your splendid Cochin-China fowls will be a
congenial and valuable addition; and, if we succeed with them, I
will take care not to monopolize the benefit of them. I am greatly
obliged to you, and,
With high respect, I am
Your obd't servant,
H. CLAY.
From Gov. Geo. N. Briggs.
_Pittsfield, 1851._
MY DEAR SIR:
The cage of Cochin-China chickens you were kind enough to send,
reached me in safety; and I am much obliged to you for this favor.
They are, beyond comparison, the finest domestic fowls I have ever
seen, and I shall breed them with such care that I hope to be able
to give you a good account of them in the future.
They are very much liked by all who have seen them, and you will
please accept my thanks for your attention.
I am, resp'y, yours,
GEO. N. BRIGGS.
From Hon. Daniel Webster.
_Marshfield, 1851._
G.P. BURNHAM, ESQ.
DEAR SIR: The coop of chickens arrived safely, and are noble
specimens of the Chinese fowl. You will rarely meet with samples
apparently so well bred, and they will do any one credit. I thank
you for the consignment, and consider them a most valuable addition
to my stock of poultry. Accept my best wishes, and believe me, dear
sir,
Yours, very truly,
DANIEL WEBSTER.
From Hon. Col. Phipps, H.R.M. Secretary.
_Windsor Castle, Eng., 1853._
DEAR SIR:
The cage of Grey Shanghae fowls intended as a present from you to
Her Majesty the Queen has this day been received from Mr. Mitchell,
of the Zoological Gardens, and they have been highly admired by Her
Majesty.
I have received Her Majesty's commands to assure Mr. Burnham of her
high appreciation of his attention; and to add that it affords
another addition to the many marks of good will from the citizens
of the United States which the Queen has received, and to which Her
Majesty attaches so high a value.
I have the honor to be
Your ob't and humble ser't,
C.B. PHIPPS.
Similar documents were often received by me, from friends and customers
who knew how to appreciate good stock; and I have now hundreds of
letters on file, of the most flattering character,--from _every_ State
in the Union, from England, Ireland, France, Bavaria, etc., where my
stock was sent, and was roundly paid for,--all of which letters (with
their enclosures, from time to time) served amply to "balance accounts"
against the few received of an opposite character, and aided materially,
also, to keep "the subscriber" from caving in!
Among the most friendly customers I ever had, and those who bought the
most liberally,--while they were the most kindly in all their
intercourse with me,--I must mention my patrons of the South generally,
but especially the buyers in New Orleans and its vicinity. I never met
with a trickster amongst them, and they paid me thousands upon thousands
of dollars, without a word of cavil or complaint, from first to last.
These fanciers had long purses, and are live _men_, with hearts "as big
as a barn," so far as my experience goes.
CHAPTER XIV.
"BOTHER'EM POOTRUMS." BUBBLE NUMBER TWO.
There was something tangible, and _real_, in the "Cochin-China"
fowl,--something that could be seen and realized (precious little, to be
sure!), but still there was _something_. The Cochin-China hens would lay
eggs (occasionally), and when they didn't breed their chickens with
feathers upon the legs, they came without them. If the legs were not
black or green skinned, they were either yellow or some _other_ color.
Their plumage was either spotted and speckled, or it wasn't. And thus
the true article, the _pure_-bred Cochins, could always be designated
and identified,--by the knowing ones,--I _presume_. I studied them
pretty carefully, however, for five years; but _I_ never knew what a
"Cochin-China" fowl really was, yet!
But when, in 1850 and '51, the "_Bother'ems_" begun to be brought into
notice, I saw at once that, although this was bubble number two, it
ought to have been number _one_, decidedly.
Never was a grosser hum promulgated than this was, from beginning to
end, even in the notorious hum of the hen-trade. There was absolutely
nothing whatever in it, about it, or connected with it, that possessed
the first shade of substance to recommend it, saving its _name_. And
this could not have saved it, but from the fact that nobody (not even
the originator of the unpronounceable cognomen himself) was ever able to
write or spell it twice in the same manner.
The variety of fowl itself was the _Grey Chittagong_, to which allusion
has already been made, and the _first_ samples of which I obtained from
"Asa Rugg" (Dr. Kerr), of Philadelphia, in 1850. Of this no one now
entertains a doubt. They were the identical fowl, all over,--size,
plumage and characteristics.
But my friend the Doctor wanted to put forth something that would take
better than his "Plymouth Rocks;" and so he consulted me as to a name
for a brace of _grey_ fowls I saw in his yard. I always objected to the
multiplying of titles; but he insisted, and finally entered them at our
Fitchburg Dépôt Show as "_Burrampooters_," all the way from India.
These three fowls were bred from Asa Rugg's Grey Chittagong cock, with a
yellow Shanghae hen, in Plymouth, Mass. They were an evident cross, all
three of them having a _top-knot_! But, _n'importe_. They were then
"Burrampooters."
Subsequently, these fowls came to be called "Buram-pootras," "Burram
Putras," "Brama-pooters," "Brahmas," "Brama Puters," "Brama Poutras,"
and at last "Brahma Pootras." In the mean time, they were advertised to
be exhibited at various fairs in different parts of the country under
the above changes of title, varied in certain instances as follows:
"Burma Porters," "Bahama Paduas," "Bohemia Prudas," "Bahama Pudras."
And, for these three _last_ named, prizes were actually offered at a
Maryland fair, in 1851!
The following capital sketch (which appeared originally in the Boston
_Carpet-Bag_) is from the pen of the late Secretary of the Mutual
Admiration Society,--a gentleman, and a very happy writer in his way. It
gives a faithful and accurate description of what many of these monsters
really were, and will be read with gusto by all who have now come to be
"posted up" in the secrets of the hen-trade.
The editor of the above-named journal remarks that "as our _Carpet-Bag_
contains something connected with everything under the sun, we have
abstracted therefrom a chapter on chicken-craft, which embraces a very
important detail of that most abstruse science. When our readers scan
the beautiful proportions of the stately fowl that _roosts_ at the head
of this article, they will acknowledge that we have some right to
_cackle_ because of the good fortune we have had in securing such an
un_eggs_ceptionable picture, exhibiting the very perfection of
cockadoodledom. Isn't he a beauty, this BOTHER'EM POOTRUM?
[Illustration]
"Examine his altitude! Observe the bold courage that stands forth in his
every lineament! There is no dunghill bravery there! See what symmetry
floats round every detail of his noble proportions! What kingly grace
associates with the comb that adorns his head as it were a crown! What
fire there is in his eye! With what proud bearing does he not wear his
abbreviated posterior appendage! Looking at the latter, we, and every
one knowing in hen-craft, will readily exclaim, 'Gerenau de
Montbeillard! you must have been a most unmitigated muff to designate
_that_ beautiful fowl the _gallus ecaudatus_, or tailless rooster.' For
ourselves, our indignity teaches us to say, 'Mons. M.! your Essai sur
Historie Nat. des Gallinacæ Fran. tom. ii., pp. 550 et 656, is a
humbug!' We know that the universal world will sympathize in our
sentiment on this point."
Peter Snooks, Esq. (a correspondent of this journal), it appears, had
the honor to be the fortunate possessor of this invaluable variety of
fancy poultry, in its unadulterated purity of blood. He furnished from
his own yard samples of this rare and desirable stock for His Royal
Highness Prince Albert, and also sent samples to several other noted
potentates, whose taste was acknowledged to be unquestionable, including
the King of Roratonga, the Rajah of Gabble-squash, His Majesty of the
Cannibal Islands, and the Mosquito King. Peter supplies the annexed
description of the superior properties of this variety of fowls:
"The _Bother'em Pootrums_ are generally hatched from eggs. The
original pair were not; they were sent from India, by way of
Nantucket, in a whale-ship.
"They are a singularly _pictur-squee_ fowl from the very shell. Imagine
a crate-full of lean, plucked chickens, taking leg-bail for their
liberty, and persevering around Faneuil Hall at the rate of five miles
an hour, and you have an idea of their extremely ornamental appearance.
"They are remarkable for producing bone, and as remarkable for producing
offal. I have had one analyzed lately by a celebrated chemist, with the
following result:
Feathers and offal, 39.00
Bony substances, 50.00
Very tough muscle and sinew, 09.00
Miscellaneous residuum, 02.00
------
100.00"
A peculiarly well-developed faculty in this extraordinary fine breed of
domestic fowls is that of _eating_. "A tolerably well-fed Bother'em will
dispose of as much corn as a common horse," insists Mr. S----. This goes
beyond _me_; for I have found that they could be kept on the allowance,
ordinarily, that I appropriated daily to the same number of good-sized
store hogs. As to affording them _all_ they would eat, I never did that.
O, no! I am pretty well off, pecuniarily, but not rich enough to attempt
any such fool-hardy experiment as that!
But Snooks is correct about one thing. They are not fastidious or
"particular about _what_ they eat." Whatever is portable to them is
adapted to their taste for devouring. Old hats, India-rubbers, boots and
shoes, or stray socks, are not out-of-the-way fare with them. They are
amazingly fond of corn, especially _a good deal of it_. They _will_ eat
wheaten bread, rather than want.
They are very inquisitive in their nature. Their habit of stalking
around the dwelling-house, and popping their heads into the
garret-windows, is evidence of this peculiar trait.
Their flesh is firm and compact, and requires a great deal
of eating to do it justice. Like Barney Bradley's leather
"O-no-we-never-mention-'ems," when cut up and stewed for tripe, "a
fellow could eat a whole bushel of potatoes to the plateful." It is of
the color of a stale red herring, and very much like that edible in
taste. Its scarcity constitutes its value.
This _rara avis in terris_ grows to a height somewhere between .00 feet
.16 inches and 25 feet. Its weight somewhat between .06 pounds and 1
cwt. It never lays, except when it rolls itself in the sand. The female
fowls sometimes do that duty, though amazingly seldom.
Mr. Snooks says he will back his Bother'em, for a chicken-feast, to
outcrow any three asthmatical steam-whistles that any railroad company
can scare up; and adds, "I am ashamed of the prejudice which makes my
fellow-men unjust. The Fowl Society--the New England organization, I
mean--repudiate the special merits of my _Bother'em Pootrums_, and tell
me that their ideas of improvement go entirely contrary to the propriety
of tolerating my noble breed of fowls. _Disgustibus non disputandum_, as
Shakspeare, or somebody for him, emphatically says,--which means, 'Every
one to his taste, as the old lady said when she kissed the cow.' One
thing it will not be hard to prove, I think; that is, simply the
probability of something like envy operating among the members of the
Hen Society, on account of the exclusive attention paid my _Bother'ems_
at the late Fowl Fairs in Boston,"--where the 'squire's contributions
_did_ rather "astonish the boys" who were not thoroughly acquainted with
the excellent qualities of these birds. Verily, Snooks' "Bother'ems" did
bother 'em exceedingly!
CHAPTER XV.
ADVERTISING EXTRAORDINARY.
From the outset of my experience in the final attack of the hen fever, I
took advantage of every possible opportunity to disseminate the now
world-wide known fact that nobody else but myself possessed any
"pure-bred" poultry! I could have proved this by the affidavits of more
than a thousand "disinterested witnesses," at any time after April and
May, 1851, had I been called upon so to do. But as no one _doubted_
this, there was then no controversy.
But, as time wore along, competition became rife, and the foremost
chicken-raisers began to look about them for the readiest means
obtainable with which to cut each other's throats; not "with a feather,"
by any means, because that would have "smelt of the shop;" but whenever,
wherever, or however, their neighbors could be traduced, maligned,
vilified, or injured (in this pursuit), they embraced the opportunity,
and followed it up, without stint, especially towards my humble self,
until most of them, fortunately, broke their own backs, and were
compelled to retire from the field, while "the people" grinned, and
comforted them with the friendly assurance that it "sarved 'em right."
At the Fitchburg Dépôt Show, in 1850, my original "Grey Chittagongs"
(already described) were in the possession of G.W. George, Esq., of
Haverhill, to whom they had been sold by the party to whom I had
previously sold them. Nobody thought well of them; but they took a first
prize there, and the "Chittagongs" (so entered at the same time) of Mr.
Hatch, of Connecticut, also took a prize. My friend the Doctor then
insisted that these were _also_ "Burrampooters;" but, as nobody but
himself could pronounce this jaw-cracking name, it was taken little
notice of at that time.
Mr. Hatch had a large quantity of the Greys at this show, which sold
readily at $12 to $20 the pair; and immediately after this exhibition
the demand for "Grey Chittagongs" was very active. I watched the current
of the stream, and I beheld with earnest sympathy the now alarming
symptoms of the fever. "The people" had suffered a relapse in the
disease, and the ravages now promised to become frightful--for a time!
An ambitious sea-captain arrived at New York from Shanghae, bringing
with him about a hundred China fowls, of all colors, grades, and
proportions. Out of this lot I selected a few _grey_ birds, that were
very large, and (consequently) "very fine," of course. I bred these,
with other grey stock I had, at once, and soon had a fine lot of birds
to dispose of--to which I gave what I have always deemed their only true
and appropriate title (as they came from Shanghae), to wit, _Grey
Shanghaes_.
In 1851 and '52 I had a most excellent "run of luck" with these birds. I
distributed them all over the country, and obtained very fair prices for
them; and, finally, the idea occurred to me that a present of a few of
the choicest of these birds to the Queen of England wouldn't prove a
very bad advertisement for me in this line. I had already reaped the
full benefit accruing from this sort of "disinterested generosity" on my
part, toward certain _American_ notables (whose letters have already
been read in these pages), and I put my newly-conceived plan into
execution forthwith.
I then had on hand a fine lot of fowls, bred from my "imported" stock,
which had been so much admired, and I selected from my best "Grey
Shanghae" chickens nine beautiful birds. They were placed in a very
handsome black-walnut-framed cage, and after having been duly lauded by
several first-rate notices in the Boston and New York papers, they were
duly shipped, through Edwards, Sanford & Co.'s Transatlantic Express,
across the big pond, addressed in purple and gold as follows:
+-----------------------------------------------+
| TO H.M.G. MAJESTY, |
| Victoria, |
| QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN. |
| |
| _To be Delivered at Zoological Gardens_, |
| LONDON, ENG. |
| |
| FROM GEO. P. BURNHAM, BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A. |
+-----------------------------------------------+
The fowls left me in December, 1852. The _London Illustrated News_ of
January 22d, 1853, contained the following article in reference to this
consignment:
"By the last steamer from the United States, a cage of very choice
domestic fowls was brought to Her Majesty Queen Victoria, a present
from George P. Burnham, Esq., of Boston, Mass. The consignment
embraced nine beautiful birds--two males and seven pullets, bred
from stock imported by Mr. Burnham direct from China. The fowls are
seven and eight months old, but are of mammoth proportions and
exquisite plumage--light silvery-grey bodies, approaching white,
delicately traced and pencilled with black upon the neck-hackles
and tips of the wings and tails. The parent stock of these
extraordinary fowls weigh at maturity upwards of twenty-three
pounds per pair; while their form, notwithstanding this great
weight, is unexceptionable. They possess all the rotundity and
beauty of the Dorking fowl; and, at the same age, nearly double the
weight of the latter. They are denominated Grey Shanghaes (in
contradistinction to the Red or Yellow Shanghaes), and are
considered in America the finest of all the great Chinese
varieties. _That they are a distinct race, is evident from the
accuracy with which they breed, and the very close similarity that
is shown amongst them; the whole of these birds being almost
precisely alike, in form, plumage and general characteristics._
They are said to be the most prolific of all the Chinese fowls. At
the time of their shipment, these birds weighed about twenty pounds
the pair."
This was a very good _beginning_. In another place (see page 88) I have
given a copy of the letter from Hon. Col. Phipps, her Majesty's
Secretary of the Privy Purse, acknowledging the receipt of this present.
A few weeks afterward, the _London News_ contained a spirited original
picture of seven of the nine Grey Shanghae fowls which I had the honor
to forward to Queen Victoria. The drawing was made by permission of the
Queen, at the royal poultry-house, from life, by the celebrated _Weir_,
and the engraving was admirably executed by _Smythe_, of London. The
effect in the picture was capital, and the likenesses very truthful. In
reference to these birds, the _News_ has the following:
"GREY SHANGHAE FOWLS FOR HER MAJESTY.--In the _London Illustrated
News_ for January 22d, we described a cage of very choice domestic
fowls, bred from stock imported by Mr. George P. Burnham, of
Boston, Mass., direct from China, and presented by him to Her
Majesty. We now engrave, by permission, these beautiful birds. They
very closely resemble the breed of _Cochin-Chinas_ already
introduced into this country, the head and neck being the same; the
legs are yellow and feathered; the carriage very similar, but the
tail being more upright than in the generality of Cochins. The
color is creamy white, slightly splashed with light straw-color,
with the exception of the tail, which is black, and the hackles,
which are pencilled with black. The egg is the same color and form
as that of the Cochins hitherto naturalized in this country. These
fowls are very good layers, and have been supplying the royal table
since their reception at the poultry-house, at Windsor."
All this "helped the cause along" amazingly. It proved a most excellent
mode of advertising my "superb," "magnificent," "splendid,"
"unsurpassable," "inapproachable" GREY SHANGHAES.
The above articles found their way (somehow or other) into the papers of
this country immediately; and, within sixty days afterwards, the price
of "Bother'ems" went up from $12 and $15 to $50, $75, $100, and $150,
the pair!!
"Cochin-Chinas" were now _no_whar! But _I_ was so as to be about yet.
CHAPTER XVI.
HEIGHT OF THE FEVER.
While this cage of Grey Shanghaes stood for an hour or two in the
express-office of Adams & Co., in Boston, a servant came from the Revere
House to inform me that "a gentleman desired to see me there, about some
poultry."
As I never had had occasion to run round much after my customers, and,
moreover, as I felt that the dignity of the business--(the _dignity_ of
the hen-trade!)--might possibly be compromised by my responding in
person to this summons, I directed the servant to "say to the gentleman,
if he wished to see me, that I should be at my office, No. 26
Washington-street, for a couple of hours,--after that, at my residence
in Melrose."
The man retired, and half an hour afterwards a carriage stopped before
my office-door. The gentleman was inside. He invited me to ride with
him--(I could afford to _ride_ with him)--to Adams & Co.'s office. He
had seen the "Grey Shanghaes" intended for the Queen there.
"I want that cage of fowls," he said.
"My dear sir," I replied, "they are going to England."
"I _want_ them. What will you take for them?"
"I can't sell them, sir."
"You can send others, you know."
"No, sir. I can't dispose of _these_, surely."
"Can you duplicate this lot?"
"Pretty nearly--perhaps not quite."
"I see," he continued. "I will give you two hundred dollars for them."
"No, sir."
"Three hundred--come!"
"I can't sell them."
"Will you take _four_ hundred dollars for the nine chickens, sir?" he
asked, drawing his pocket-book in presence of a dozen witnesses.
I declined, of course. I couldn't sell these identical fowls; for I had
an object in view, in sending them abroad, which appeared to me of more
consequence than the amount offered--a good deal.
"Will you _name_ a price for them?" insisted the stranger.
I said, "No, sir--excuse me. I would not take a thousand dollars for
these birds, I assure you. Their equals in quality and number do not
live, I think, to-day, in America!"
"I won't give a--a--thousand dollars, for them," he said, slowly. "No,
I won't give _that_!" and we parted. Yet, I have no doubt, had I
encouraged him with a prospect of his obtaining them at all, he _would_
have given me a thousand dollars for that very cage of fowls! To _this_
extent did the hen fever rage at that moment.
I subsequently sent this gentleman two trios of my grey chickens, for
which he paid me $200.
And now the Grey Shanghae trade commenced in _earnest_. Immediately
after the announcements were made (which I have quoted) orders poured in
upon me furiously from all quarters of this country, and from Great
Britain. Not a steamer left America for England, for months and months,
on board of which I did not send more or less of the "Grey Shanghaes."
From every State in the Union, my orders were large and numerous; and
letters like the following were received by me almost every day, for
months:
"G.P. BURNHAM.
"SIR: I have just seen the pair of superb Grey Shanghae fowls which
you sent to Mr. ---- ----, of this city, and I want a pair like
them. If you can send me _better_ ones, I am willing to pay higher
for them. He informs me that your price per pair is forty dollars.
I enclose you _fifty_ dollars; do the best you can for me, but
forward them _at once_,--don't delay.
"Yours, &c.,
"---- ---- ----."
I almost always had "_better_ ones." That was the kind I always kept
behind, or for my own use. I rarely sent away these better ones until
they cried for 'em! I always had a great _many_ of the "best" ones, too;
which were even better than those "better" ones for which the demand had
come to be so great!
Strange to say, everybody got to want _better_ ones, at last; and,
finally, I had none upon my premises but this very class of birds--to
wit, the "better ones." To be sure, I reserved a very _few_ pairs of the
_best_ ones, which could be obtained at a fair price; but these were the
ones that would "take down" the fanciers, occasionally, who wanted to
beat _me_ with them at the first show that came off. But I didn't sleep
much over this business. I always had one cock and three or four hens
that the boys didn't _see_--until we got upon the show-ground. Ha, ha!
A stranger called at my house, one Sunday morning, just as I was ready
with my family for church. He apologized for coming on that day, but
couldn't get away during the week. He had never seen the Grey
Shanghaes--didn't know what a Chinese fowl was--had no idea about them
at all. He wanted a few eggs--heard I had them--wouldn't stop but a
moment--saw that I was just going out, &c. &c. He sat down--was sorry to
trouble me--wouldn't do so again--would like just to take a peep at the
fowls--when, suddenly, as he sat with his back close to the open
window, my old crower sent forth one of those thundering, unearthly,
rolling, guttural shrieks, that, once heard, can never be forgotten!
The stranger leaped from his chair, and sprang over his hat, as he
yelled,
"Good God! what's _that_?"
His face was as white as his shirt-bosom.
"That's one of the Grey Shanghaes, crowing," I replied.
"_Crow!_ I beg your pardon," he said; "I don't want any eggs--no! I'll
leave it to another time. I--a--I couldn't take 'em now; won't detain
you--good-morning, sir," he continued; and, rushing out of my front
door, he disappeared on "a dead run," as fast as his legs could carry
him. And I don't know but he is running yet. He was desperately alarmed,
surely!
[Illustration: "I DON'T WANT ANY EGGS--NO!"--(See page 109.)]
I was so amused at this incident, that I was in a precious poor mood to
attend church that morning. And when my friend the minister arose at
length, and announced for his text that "the wicked flee when no man
pursueth," those words capped the climax for me.
I jammed my handkerchief into my mouth, until I was nearly suffocated,
as I thought of that wicked fellow who had just been so frightened while
in the act of attempting to bargain for fancy hen's eggs on the Sabbath!
A Western paper, in alluding to the fever, about this period, observed
that "this modern epidemic has shown itself in our vicinity within a
short time, and is characterized by all the peculiarities which have
marked its ravages elsewhere. Some of our most valuable citizens are now
suffering from its attacks, and there is no little anxiety felt for
their recovery. The morning slumbers of our neighbors are interrupted by
the sonorous and deep-toned notes of our Shanghae Chanticleer, and
various have been the inquiries as to how he took '_cold_,' and what we
gave him for it. 'Chittagongs' and 'Burma Porters' are now as learnedly
discussed as 'Fancy Stocks' on change.
The N.Y. _Scientific American_ stated, at this time, that the
"Cochin-China fowl fever was then as strong in England as in some parts
of New England,--in fact, stronger. One pair exhibited there was valued
at $700. What a sum for a hen and rooster! The common price of a pair is
$100," added this journal; and still the trade continued excellent with
me.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XVII.
RUNNING IT INTO THE GROUND.
There now seemed to be no limit whatever to the _prices_ that fanciers
would pay for what were deemed the best samples of fowls. For my own
part, from the very commencement I had been considerate and merciful in
_my_ charges. True, I had been taken down handsomely by a Briton (in my
original purchase of Cochin-Chinas), but I did not retaliate. I was
content with a fair remuneration; _my_ object, principally, was to
disseminate good stock among "the people," for I was a democrat, and
loved the dear people.
So I charged lightly for my "magnificent" samples, while other persons
were selling second and third rate stock for five or even six and eight
dollars a pair. The "Grey Shanghaes" had got to be a "fixed fact" in
England, as well as in this country, and still I was flooded with orders
continually.
I obtained $25, $50, $100 a pair, for mine; and one gentleman, who
ordered four greys, soon after the Queen's stock reached England, paid
me _sixty guineas_ for them--$150 a pair. But these were of the _better_
class of birds to which I have alluded.
In 1852 a Boston agricultural journal stated that "within three months
extra samples of two-year-old fowls, of the large Chinese varieties,
have been sold in Massachusetts at $100 the pair. Several pairs, within
our own knowledge, have commanded $50 a pair, within the past six
months. Last week we saw a trio of White Shanghaes sold in Boston for
$45. And the best specimens of Shanghaes and Cochin-China fowls now
bring $20 to $25 a pair, readily, to purchasers at the South and West."
Now, these prices may be looked upon by the uninitiated as
extraordinary. So they were for this country. But at a Birmingham (Eng.)
show, in the fall of 1852, a single pair of "Seabright Bantams," very
small and finely plumed, sold for $125; a fine "Cochin-China" cock and
two hens, for $75; and a brace of "White Dorkings," at $40. An English
breeder went to London, from over a hundred miles distant, for the sole
purpose of procuring a setting of Black Spanish eggs, and paid one
dollar for each egg. Another farmer there sent a long distance for the
best Cochin-China eggs, and paid one dollar and fifty cents _each_ for
them, at this time!
This was keeping up the rates with a vengeance, and beat us Yankees, out
and out. But later accounts from across the water showed that this was
only a beginning, even. In the winter of 1852 the _Cottage Gardener_
stated that "within the last few weeks a gentleman near London sold a
pair of Cochin-China fowls for 30 guineas ($150), and another pair for
32 guineas ($160). He has been offered £20 for a single hen; has sold
numerous eggs at 1 guinea ($5) each, and has been paid down for chickens
just hatched 12 guineas ($60) the half-dozen, to be delivered at a month
old. One amateur alone had paid upwards of £100 for stock birds."
To this paragraph in the _Gardener_ the _Bury and Norwich Post_ added
the following: "In our own neighborhood, during the past week, we happen
to know that a cock and two hens (Cochin-Chinas) have been sold for 32
guineas, or $160. The fact is, choice birds, well bred, of good size and
handsome plumage, are now bringing very high prices, everywhere; and the
demand (in our own experience) has never been so great as at the present
time."
In this way the fever raved and raged for a long year or more. Shows
were being held all over this country, as well as in every principal
city and town in England. Everybody bought fowls, and everybody had to
pay for them, too, in 1852 and 1853!
In a notice of one of the English shows in that year (1853), a paper
says: "There is a pen of three geese weighing forty-eight pounds; and
among the _Cochin-China_ birds are to be found hens which, in the period
that forms the usual boundary of chicken life, have attained a weight of
seven or eight pounds. Of the value of these birds it is difficult to
speak without calling forth expressions of incredulity. It is evident
that there is a desperate _mania_ in bird-fancying, as in other things.
Thus, for example, there is a single fowl to which is affixed the
enormous money value of 30 _guineas_; two Cochin-China birds are
estimated at 25 _guineas_; and four other birds, of the same breed, a
cock and three hens, are rated in the aggregate at 60 _guineas_,--a
price which the owner confidently expects them to realize at the
auction-sale on Thursday. A further illustration of this ornithological
enthusiasm is to be found in the fact that, at a sale on Wednesday last,
one hundred and two lots, comprising one hundred and ten Cochin-China
birds, all belonging to one lady, realized £369. 4s. 6d.; the highest
price realized for a single one being 20 guineas."
Another British journal stated, a short time previously, that "a
circumstance occurred which proves that the Cochin-China mania has by no
means diminished in intensity. The last annual sale of the stock of Mr.
Sturgeon, of Greys, has taken place at the Baker-street Bazaar. The two
hundred birds there disposed of could not have realized a less sum than
nearly £700 (or $3500), some of the single specimens being knocked down
at more than £12, and very many producing £4, £5, and £6 each."
The attention, at this sale, devoted to the pedigree of the birds, was
amusing to a mere observer; one fowl would be described as a cockerel by
_Patriarch_, another as a pullet by _Jerry_, whilst a third was
recommended as being the off-spring of _Sam_. Had the sale been one of
horses, more care could hardly have been taken in describing their
pedigrees or their qualifications. Many were praised by the auctioneer
as being particularly _clever_ birds, although in what their cleverness
consisted did not appear. The fancy had evidently extended to _all_
ranks in society. The peerage sent its representatives, who bought what
they wanted, regardless of price. Nor was the lower house without its
delegates; a well-known metropolitan ex-member seems to have changed his
constituency of voters for one of Cochins; and we can only hope that it
may not be his duty to hold an inquest on any that perish by a violent
or unnatural death. The sums obtained for these birds depended on their
being in strict accordance with the then taste of the fancy. They were
magnificent in size, docile in behavior, intelligent in expression, and
most of them were very finely bred.
And while the hen fever was thus at its height, almost, in England, we
were following close upon the footsteps of John Bull in the United
States. At the Boston Fowl Show in 1852, three Cochin-Chinas were sold
at $100; a pair of Grey Chittagongs, at $50; two Canton Chinese fowls,
at $80; three Grey Shanghae chicks, at $75; three White Shanghaes, at
$65; six White Shanghae chickens, $40 to $45, etc.; and these prices,
for similar samples, could have been obtained again and again.
At this time there was found an ambitious individual, occasionally, who
got "ahead of his time," and whose laudable efforts to outstrip his
neighbors were only checked by the natural results of his own superior
"progressive" notions. A case in point:
"Way down in Lou'siana," for instance, a correspondent of mine stated
that there lived one of these go-ahead fellows, who had been afflicted
with a serious attack of hen fever, and who was not content with the
ordinary speed and prolificness in breeding of the noted Shanghae fowls.
He desired to possess himself of the biggest kind of a pile of chickens
for the rapidly augmenting trade; and so he had constructed an
Incubator, of moderate dimensions, into which he carefully stowed only
three hundred nice fresh eggs, from his fancy fowls.
The secret of his plan to "astonish the boys" was limited to the
knowledge of only two or three friends; and--thermometer in hand--he
commenced operations. With close assiduity and Job-like patience, our
amateur applied himself to his three weeks' task, by day and night, and
at the end of fifteen days, one egg was broken, and Mr. Shanghae was
_thar_,--alive and kicking, but as yet immature.
The neighborhood was in the greatest excitement at this prospect of
success. Our friend commenced to crow (slightly), and, to hasten
matters, put on, a _leetle_ more steam at a venture. The twenty-second
day arrived, and the "boys" assembled to witness the _entrée_ of three
hundred steam-hatched Shanghaes into this breathing world. Our amateur
was full of expectation and "fever." One egg was broken; another, and
then another; when, upon inspection, the entire mass was found to have
been _thoroughly boiled_!
A desperate guffaw was heard as our amateur friend disappeared, and his
only query since has been to ascertain what actual time is required to
boil a certain quantity of eggs at a given heat, and the smallest
probable cost thereof! As far as heard from, the reply has been, say six
gallons of good alcohol, at one dollar per gallon, for three hundred
eggs; time (night and day), twenty-two days and seven hours; and the
product it is generally thought would make capital fodder for young
turkeys,--provided said eggs are not boiled _too hard_!
On the subject of the _diseases_ of poultry many learned and sapient
dissertations appeared about these days. In one agricultural journal we
remember to have met with the following scientific prescription. The
learned writer is talking about _roup_ in fowls, and says:
"This is probably a chronic condition, the result of frequent colds.
Give the following medicines: _Aconite_, if there is fever,
_hepar-suliphuris third trituration_, or mercury, _third trituration_,
for a day or two, once in three or four hours; then _pulsatilla
tincture_ for the eyes; _antimonium_, third trituration or _arsenic_, or
_nux vomica_, for the crop."
Isn't this _clear_, reader? How many poultry-raisers in the United
States are there who would be likely to comprehend one line of this
stuff? We advise this writer to try again; the above is an "elegant
extract," verily!
We now come down to the fourth and last exhibition in Boston of the
Mutual Admiration Society, _alias_ the Association with the long-winded
cognomen, which took place in September, 1852.
CHAPTER XVIII.
ONE OF THE FINAL KICKS.
I was chosen by somebody (who will here permit me to present them my
thanks for the honor) as one of the judges to decide upon the merits of
the birds then to be exhibited: and my colleagues on this Committee were
Dr. J.C. Bennett, and Messrs. Andrews, Balch and Fussell.
On the morning of the opening of this show the names of the judges were
first announced to the contributors. Immediately there followed a
"hullabaloo" that would have done credit to any bedlam, ancient or
modern, ever heard or dreamed of. The lead in this burst of rebellion
amongst the hitherto "faithful" was taken by one prominent member, who
announced publicly, then and there, that the selection of the judges was
an infamous imposition. They were incompetent, dishonest, prejudiced,
calculating, speculative, ambitious competitors. Moreover, that it had
all been "contrived by that damned Burnham, who would rob a church-yard,
or steal the cents off the eyes of his dead uncle, any time, for the
price of a hen."
These were the gentleman's own expressive words. He added that he could
stand anything in the hen-trade but _this_. This, however, he would
_not_ submit to. Burnham should be kicked out of that Committee, or he
would kick himself out of his boots, and the Society's traces also;--a
threat which did not seem to alarm or disturb anybody, "as I knows on,"
except this same tall, stout, athletic, brave, honorable, honest,
truthful, smart, gentlemanly member of this Mutual Admiration Society!
Now, it was very well known, at this time, that the Committee of Judges
had been chosen entirely without their own knowledge. So far as I was
myself concerned, I should greatly have preferred at that time to have
remained an outsider, because it would have then been quite as well for
me to have contributed to the exhibition, where, with the "splendid
specimens" I then possessed of the Cochin-China and Shanghae varieties
of fowl, I could have knocked all the others "higher than a fence" in
_that_ show, as I had done in all the previous exhibitions where I had
ever competed with the boys.
But the same power which had formed the Committee of Judges also
provided that they must not be competitors. Thus, three or four of those
persons who had at the previous exhibitions of this Society been the
most extensive contributors,--men who had bred by far the largest
assortments and quantities of good fowls up to this period, and who had
till now paid ten or twenty dollars for one (compared with any other of
the members) toward the good of the association, and in the furtherance
of its objects,--_these_ men were made the judges, and were cut off as
contributors. I was satisfied, however, because I saw that the framing
of the _Report_ of this show would fall to my lot again; and I had no
doubt that, under these circumstances, I could afford to be "persecuted"
for the time being.
It is not in my nature to harm anybody; and those who are personally
acquainted with me, know that I am _constitutionally_ of a calm,
retiring, meek, religious turn of mind. My aim in life is to "do unto
others as I would have others do unto me." I "love my neighbor" (if he
doesn't permit his hens to get into my garden) "as myself." And, "if a
man smite me upon one cheek, I turn to him the other also," immediately,
if not sooner. I never retaliate upon an enemy or an opponent--until I
make _sure that I have him where the hair is short_.
I once knew of an extraordinary instance of patience that taught me a
powerful lesson in submissiveness. It occurred in a Western court, where
the judge (a most exemplary man, I remember) sat for two mortal days
quietly listening to the arguments of a couple of contending lawyers in
reference to the construction they desired him to assume in regard to a
certain act of the Legislature of that State. When the two legal
gentlemen had "thrown themselves," in this long and wearying debate, for
forty-eight hours, his Honor cut off the controversy by remarking, very
quietly,
"Gentlemen, this law that you have been speaking of _has been
repealed_!"
I thought of this circumstance, and I permitted the hen-men to gas, to
their hearts' content. When they got through with their anathemas, their
spleen, and their stupidity, I informed them that the "Committee" had
unanimously left to _my_ charge _the writing of the Report of that
Exhibition_.
From that moment, up to the hour when the Report was published, I never
suspected (before) that I had so many _friends_ in this world!
The fear that seemed to pervade every mind present was, that _I_ should
probably do precisely what _they_ would have done under similar
circumstances,--to wit, take care of myself.
I had no fowls in this exhibition; but there were present numerous
specimens bred from my stock, that were very choice (so every one said),
and which commanded the highest prices during the show.
There were several _Southern_ gentlemen present, who bought (and paid
roundly for them, too) some of the best fancy-birds on sale. It was
astonishing how much some of those buyers did know about the different
breeds of Chinese fowls there! Yes, it certainly was astounding! I think
I _never_ saw before so much real, downright _bona fide_ knowledge of
henology displayed as was shown by one or two Southern gentlemen, then
and there;--never, in the whole course of my experience!
By reference to the next chapter, it will be seen how shamefully I
neglected my own interests, and how self-sacrificing I was in the report
of the Society's last kick, which, as I have already hinted, the
Committee left to _my_ charge to prepare.
I had no disposition (in the preparation of this document) to underrate
the stock of any one else, _provided_ it did not interfere with me! And,
after carefully noting down whatever seemed of importance to my
well-being there, I sat myself down to oblige the Committee by writing
the "Report" of this show, which an ill-natured competitor subsequently
declared was "only in favor of Burnham and his stock, all over,
underneath, in the middle, outside, overhead, on top, on all sides, and
at both ends!"
And _I believe he was right_!
CHAPTER XIX.
THE FOURTH FOWL-SHOW IN BOSTON.
This show (in September, 1852) was the fifth exhibition held in Boston,
but the _fourth_ only of the Society with the long name.
The Report commences with a congratulation (as usual) that the
association still lives, and has a being; and, after alluding to the
general state of the affairs of the concern,--without touching upon its
financial condition,--it thus proceeds:
"Your Committee would call your attention to the fact that among the
numerous fowls exhibited this season,--as upon former occasions,--a very
unnecessary practice seems to have obtained, in the mis-_naming_ of
varieties. Crossbred fowls have been called by original cognomens,
unknown to practical breeders; and a host of birds well known to the
Committee, as well as to poulterers generally, have been denominated by
any other than their _real_ and universally conceded ornithological
titles. This savors of bad taste; it leads to ridicule among strangers
who visit our shows from abroad; and should not be sanctioned by your
Society. Errors may creep in among your transactions, in this
particular, and many honest, careful breeders may be deceived; but the
multiplying of _unpronounceable and meaningless names_ for domestic
fowls is entirely uncalled for; and your committee recommend a close
adherence, hereafter, to recognized titles only.
"In this connection, it may be proper to allude to a case in point. The
largest and unquestionably one of the finest varieties of domestic fowls
ever shown among us was entered by the breeders of this variety as the
'Chittagong;' other coops of the same stock were labelled 'Grey
Chittagongs;' others were called 'Bramah Pootras;' and others, 'Grey
Shanghae' and 'Malays.'
"Your Committee are divided in opinion as to what these birds ought,
rightfully, to be called,--though the majority of the Committee have no
idea that 'Bramah Pootra' is their correct title. That they are not
'Malays' is also quite as clear. Several of the specimens are positively
known to have come direct from Shanghae; and _none_ are known to have
come originally from anywhere else. Nevertheless, it has been thought
proper to leave this question open, for the present; and the Committee,
believing that this fowl originates in and hails directly from the East,
are content to accept for them the title of 'Grey Shanghae,'
'Chittagong,' or 'Bramah Pootra,' as different breeders may
elect,--admitting, at the same time, that they are really a very
superior bird, and believing that if carefully bred they may be found
decidedly the most valuable among all the large _Chinese_ breeds, of
which they are clearly a good variety."
* * * * *
"A large sum of money was expended at this exhibition, by visitors,
amateurs and breeders,--one gentleman investing upwards of $700 in
choice fowls; another, from the South, purchasing to the amount of $350
for extra samples; another bought $200 worth, etc. The highest figures
ever yet paid on this side of the Atlantic (for individual purchases)
were realized at this show.
"Samples of the China stock originally imported from Shanghae were very
plentiful on this occasion, and the high reputation of this blood was
fully sustained in the specimens exhibited. Very superior fowls, bred
from G.P. Burnham's importations of Cochin-Chinas, were also numerous,
and were sold, in four or five instances, at the very _highest_ prices
paid for any samples that were disposed of."
Among the premiums awarded to the _Chinese_ fowls by this "Committee,"
were the following:
"CHINA FOWLS.--To H.H. Williams, best cock and two hens (of Burnham's
_Canton_ importation), $5. To C. Sampson, West Roxbury, best cock and
single hen (Burnham's _Canton_ importation), $3. To H.H. Williams,
third prize, for same stock, $2. To C.C. Plaisted, Great Falls, N.H.,
the Committee awarded a first prize, $5, for what he called
'_Hong-Kong_' fowls; these were of Burnham's _Canton_ stock, also. To A.
White, E. Randolph, for six best chickens (Burnham's importation), $2.
"COCHIN-CHINA.--To H.H. Williams, West Roxbury, best cock and two hens
(splendid samples, of extraordinary size and beauty), first prize, $5.
To A. White, E. Randolph, best cock and single hen (of Burnham's
importation), $3. To A. White, for six best chickens (Burnham's
importation), $2."
* * * * *
The Committee then allude to the _prices_ which were paid there for
fowls, "_not because they advocate the propriety of keeping them up_"
(O, no!), "but rather to show that the welfare of the Association is by
no means derogating.
"The three prize _Cochin-China_ fowls were sold for $100. The two prize
_Grey Shanghaes_, or 'Bramah Pootras,' were sold for $50. Three chickens
of the same, at $50. A pair of Burnham's importation of _Cochins_, at
$80; another pair, at $40; another trio (chickens), at $40. Six Black
Spanish chickens (Child's), at $50. Six _White Shanghae_ chickens
(Wight's), at $45. Three hens, of same stock, at $50--and several pairs
and trios of other varieties, at from $25 each, to $25 and $30 to $40
the lot."
* * * * *
At a subsequent meeting of the Trustees, Mr. George P. Burnham, on the
part of the Judges at the late exhibition of the Society, presented
their _Report_, whereupon it was
"_Voted_, That the Report of the Judges on the recent show of poultry in
the Public Garden be accepted."
And this was the end of _that_ ball of worsted! I rather have the
impression, now,--as nearly as I can recollect (though my memory is
somewhat treacherous in these matters), but I _think_ I sold a few
fowls, just after that fair. "I may be mistaken,--but that is my
opinion!"
The Report was duly accepted, in form, and I had the satisfaction of
seeing my "extraordinary" and "superb" stock again lauded to the very
echo, at the expense of the old-fogyism of the "Mutual Admiration
Society."
The consequence was a renewed activity in my sales, which continued
delightfully lively and correspondingly remunerative for several months
after _this_ exhibition, also, where I did not enter the first fowl!
CHAPTER XX.
PRESENT TO QUEEN VICTORIA.
I have already alluded to the fine Grey Shanghaes which I forwarded to
Her Majesty the Queen. In relation to this circumstance the Boston
papers contained the following announcement, in the month of April,
1853; a circumstance which did not greatly retard the prospects of my
business either on this or on the other side of the water! The
compliment thus paid me by Royalty was duly appreciated, and its
delicacy will be apparent to the reader. This picture is the only one of
its _kind_ ever sent to an American citizen.
"A COMPLIMENT FROM VICTORIA.--Some weeks ago, Mr. George P. Burnham, of
Boston, forwarded to Her Majesty Queen Victoria a present of some _Grey
Shanghae_ fowls, which have been greatly admired in England. By the last
steamer Mr. Burnham received the following letter from Her Majesty's
Secretary of the Privy Purse, accompanying a fine portrait of the Queen,
sent over to Mr. B.:
THE QUEEN'S LETTER.
{ "Buckingham Palace,
{ March 15, 1853.
"Dear Sir: I have received the commands of Her Majesty the Queen,
to assure you of Her Majesty's high appreciation for the kind
motives which prompted you to forward for her acceptance the
magnificent 'Grey Shanghae' fowls which have been so much admired
at Her Majesty's aviary at Windsor.
"Her Majesty has accepted, with great pleasure, such a mark of
respect and regard, from a citizen of the United States.
"I have, by Her Majesty's command, shipped in the 'George Carl,' to
your address, a case containing a portrait of Her Majesty,[10] of
which the Queen has directed me to request your acceptance.
"I have the honor to be,
"Sir, your ob't and humble servant,
"C.B. Phipps.
"To Geo. P. Burnham, Esq.,
Boston, U.S.A."
I caused a copy to be taken from this portrait of the Queen, and have
had it engraved for this book; it appears as the frontispiece.
Immediately after this paragraph appeared, a new zest appeared to have
been given to the Grey Shanghae trade. Orders came from Canada and from
Nova Scotia to a very considerable amount; and during this season my
sales were again very large. During the year 1853, I started and raised
over sixteen hundred chickens of all kinds; but this did not supply my
orders. I bought largely, and paid high prices, too, generally. But few
persons were now doing any business in the fowl-trade, except myself,
however.
The _N.Y. Spirit of the Times_ published portraits of the birds sent to
the Queen, and remarked that "the engraving represented six of the nine
beautiful _Grey Shanghae_ fowls lately presented to Her Majesty
_Victoria_, Queen of Great Britain, by _George P. Burnham_, Esq., of
Boston, Mass.
"These birds were forwarded by one of the last month's Collins steamers,
in charge of Adams & Co.'s Express, and passed through this city on the
24th ult. Their extraordinary size and fine plumage were the admiration
of all who examined them. The picture is from life, engraved by Brown,
and is a faithful representation of the birds, which are very closely
bred.
"The color of this variety of the China fowl is a light silver-grey,
approximating to white; the body is a light downy white, sparsely
spotted and pencilled with metallic black in the tail and wing tips; the
legs are feathered to the toes, and the form is unexceptionable for a
large fowl; this variety having proved the biggest of all the
'Shanghaes' yet imported into this State.
"The two cocks above delineated weighed between ten and eleven pounds
each at six months old; the pullets drew seven and a half to nine pounds
each at seven to eight months old; the original imported pair of _old_
ones now weigh upwards of twenty-three pounds, together. In the existing
rage for weighty birds, this variety will naturally satisfy the ambition
of those who go for the 'biggest kind' of fowls!
"The group represents this variety with accuracy, and are, without
doubt, for their kind, rare specimens of the genuine _gallus giganteus_
of modern ornithologists. As Her Majesty has long been known among the
foremost patrons of that agreeable branch of rural pursuits,
poultry-raising, we do not doubt but that this splendid present from Mr.
Burnham will prove highly gratifying to her tastes in this particular."
Portraits of these fowls appeared in _Gleason's Pictorial_ for January,
1853, and the editor spoke as follows of them:
"The Grey Shanghae Fowls lately presented to Her Majesty Queen Victoria,
of Great Britain, by George P. Burnham, Esq., of Boston, were
extraordinary specimens of domestic poultry, and were bred the past
season by Mr. Burnham from stock imported by him direct from China. They
were universally admitted, by the thousands who saw them before they
left, to be the largest and choicest-bred lot of chickens ever seen
together in this vicinity. These fowls were from the same broods as
those lately sent to Northby, of Aldborough, by Mr. Burnham, who is,
perhaps, the most successful poultry-raiser in America; and while these
beautiful birds are creditable to him as a breeder, they are a present
really 'fit for a queen.'"
The New York journals alluded to them in flattering terms, during their
transit through that city on the way to their destination; and the
numerous orders that crowded in upon me was the best evidence of the
estimation in which this variety of domestic fowls was then held, as
well as of the determined disposition of "the people" to be supplied
from my "_pure_-bred stock."
By one of the British steamers, in the summer of 1853, the express of
Edwards, Sanford & Co., took out to Europe from my stock, for Messrs.
Bakers, of Chelsea, Baily, of London, Floyd, of Huddersfield, Deming, of
Brighton, Simons, of Birmingham, and Miss Watts, Hampstead, six cages of
these "extraordinary" birds. The best of the hens weighed nine to nine
and a half pounds each, and three of the cocks drew over twelve pounds
each! There were forty-two birds in all, which, together, could not be
equalled, probably, at that time, in America or England, for size,
beauty and uniformity of color. The sum paid me for this lot of Greys
was eight hundred and seventy dollars.
Of the three fowls sent to Mr. John Baily (above mentioned), and which
he exhibited in the fall of that year in England, the following account
reached me, subsequently:
"Mr. Geo. P. Burnham, of Melrose, sent out to England, last fall, to Mr.
John Baily, of London, a cage of his fine 'Grey Shanghaes,' which were
exhibited at the late Birmingham Show. The London _Field_ of Dec. 24th
says that '_one pair_ of these fowls, from Mr. Burnham, of the United
States, the property of Mr. Baily, of Mount-street, were shown among the
extra stock, and were purchased from him, during the exhibition, by Mr.
Taylor, of Shepherd's Bush, at one hundred guineas' ($500)!"
This was the biggest figure ever paid for _two_ fowls, I imagine! Mr.
Baily paid me twenty pounds sterling for the trio, and I thought that
fair pay, I remember. The following brief account of my trade for the
year of our Lord 1853, I published on the last day of December of that
year, for the gratification of my numerous friends, and for the
information of "the people" who felt an interest in this still exciting
and (to me) very agreeable subject:
"EDS. BOSTON DAILY TIMES: In a late number of your journal you were
pleased to allude to the sales of live-stock made by me latterly.
At the close of the present year, I find upon my books the
following aggregate of sales for 1853, which--to show how much
has been done by _one_ dealer--may be interesting to some of your
readers who 'love pigs and chickens.'
"I have sent into the Southern and Western States, through Adams &
Co.'s Express alone, from Jan. 1st to Dec. 27th, 1853, a little
rising $17,000 worth of Chinese fowls and fancy pigs. By Edwards,
Sanford & Co.'s Transatlantic Express, in the same period, I have
sent to England and the continent about $2000 worth of my 'Grey
Shanghaes.' By Thompson and Co. and the American Western Express
Co., I have sent west and south-west, in the same time, over $1200
worth; and my minor cash sales (directly at my yards in Melrose)
have been over $1000; making the entire sales from my establishment
for the past year nearly or quite _twenty-two thousand dollars_ in
value. Of this amount, $7300 worth has been sold since the 10th of
Sept last.
"By the first steamer that leaves New York in January, '54, I shall
send to New Orleans (to a single customer) between five and six
hundred dollars' worth, ordered a few days since. I have also now
in hand three large orders to fill for Liverpool and London,
immediately; and the present prospect is that the poultry-trade
will be considerably better next year than we have ever yet known
it in New England. Wishing you and my competitors in the trade a
'Happy New Year,' I am theirs and yours, truly,
"GEO. P. BURNHAM.
"_Melrose, Dec. 30, 1853._"
I have offered these statistics and facts to give some idea of the
amount of trade that must have been current, in the _aggregate_, when
these isolated instances are considered, and for the purpose of
affording the reader an opportunity to judge measurably to what an
extent this _fever_ really raged.
Thousands and tens of thousands of "the people" were now (or had been)
engaged in this extraordinary excitement, who were continuously
humbugging themselves and each other, at round cost. And when these
thousands are multiplied by the fives or tens, twenties or fifties, one
hundreds or five hundreds of dollars, that they invested in this mania,
the "prime cost" of this hum can be fancied, though it can never be
known with accuracy.
[10] See Frontispiece.
CHAPTER XXI.
EXPERIMENTS OF AMATEURS.
The newspapers of the day were now occupied with speculative and actual
statistics, of various kinds, relating to the utility and value of
poultry and its produce, and every one seemed to join, in his or her
way, to magnify the vastness of this enterprise; and statements like the
following, in respectable public journals, had the effect to increase
and keep up to fever-heat the state of the hen malady:
"By reference to the agricultural statistics of the United States,
published from reliable sources in 1850, it may be seen that the actual
value of poultry, in New York State alone, was two millions three
hundred and seventy-three thousand and twenty-nine dollars! Which was
more than the value of _all the swine_ in the same state; nearly equal
to _one half the value of its sheep_, the _entire_ value of its _neat
cattle_, and nearly _five times_ the value of its _horses and mules_!"
The amount of sales of live and dead _poultry_ in Quincy Market, Boston,
for the year 1848, said another paper, was six hundred seventy-four
thousand four hundred and twenty-three dollars: the average sales of one
dealer alone amounting to twelve hundred dollars per week for the whole
year. The amount of sales for the whole city of Boston, for the same
year, was over one million of dollars. The amount of sales of _eggs_ in
and around the Quincy Market for 1848 was one million one hundred and
twenty-nine thousand seven hundred and thirty-five dozen, which, at
eighteen cents per dozen, makes the amount paid for eggs to be two
hundred three thousand three hundred and fifty-two dollars and thirty
cents; while the amount of sales of eggs for the whole city of Boston,
for the same year, was a fraction short of one million of dollars; the
daily consumption of eggs at one of its hotels being seventy-five dozen
daily, and on Saturday one hundred and fifty dozen.
At this time, a single dealer in the egg-trade, at Philadelphia, sent to
the New York market, daily, one hundred barrels of eggs; while the value
of eggs shipped from Dublin to Liverpool and London was more than five
millions of dollars for the year 1848.
In addition to these facts, frequent allusions were made to the enormous
quantities required for other markets, in the interior, to supply which
the number of laying hens must be kept good, and increased, as the
demand for the eggs was constantly augmenting, and the business, "if
skilfully and judiciously managed" (said the agricultural papers),
_must_ prove immensely profitable to those who engage in it.
If "skilfully and judiciously managed"! This was good advice. But no one
could inform "the people" how this management was to be effected. In the
mean time, every sort of experiment was resorted to, by amateurs and
fanciers and humbugs (who had been humbugged), to "improve" the breeds
of poultry, and to produce new fowls that would lay two or three or four
eggs for one, as compared with the old-fashioned birds.
We knew one beginner who had purchased a pretty little place a few miles
from the city, who contracted the fever, and "suffered" badly, but who
was cured by the following curious result of his early experiments. Eggs
were scarce (genuine ones), and, after considerable searching, he
finally procured of some one in Boston a clutch of "fancy" eggs, for
which he paid big figures, but which did not _turn out_ exactly what he
anticipated; and so _he_ concluded, after a time, that the hen fever was
a rascally hum. (He didn't procure these eggs of _me_, be it understood.
_I_ never had any but _genuine_ ones!)
He purchased what he was assured were pure "Cochin-China" eggs. (Perhaps
they were--who knows?) And after waiting patiently for six long weeks
for the "curious" eggs to hatch, he found six young _ducks_ in his coop,
one morning!--So much for his knowledge of eggs!
But this was not so bad as was the case of one of his neighbors,
however, who paid a round price for half a dozen choice eggs,
queer-looking speckled eggs--small, round, "outlandish" eggs--which he
felt certain would produce _rare_ chicks, and which he was very cautious
in setting under his very best hen.
At the end of a few days he was startled, at the breakfast-table, to
hear his favorite hen screaming "bloody murder" from within the coop! He
rushed to the rescue, raised the box-lid, and found her still on the
nest, but in a frightful perturbation--struggling, yelling and cackling,
most vociferously.
He spoke to her kindly and softly; he would fain, appease and quiet her;
for there was great danger lest, in her excitement and struggles, she
would destroy the favorite eggs--those rare eggs, which had cost him so
much money and trouble. But soft words were vain. His "best" hen
continued to scream lustily, and he raised her from the nest to look
into the cause of the trouble more critically. His astonishment was
instantaneous, but immense; and his surprise found vent in the brief but
expressive exclamation, "_Turkles--by thunder_!"
Such was the fact. This poor, innocent poultry-"fancier" was the victim
of misplaced confidence. The party who sold him _them_ eggs had sold the
buyer shockingly! And instead of a brood of pure Cochin-Chinas, he
found that his favorite hen had hatched half a dozen pure _mud-turtles_,
all of which, upon breaking from the shells, seized upon the flesh of
the poor fowl, and had well-nigh taken her life before they could be
"choked off." He has given up the chicken-trade, and has since gone into
the dwarf-pear business. Poor devil!
A youthful lawyer of my acquaintance, away Down East, who was proverbial
for his "sharp practice" at the bar, met with a young doctor, who was a
great bird-fancier, and with whom he subsequently formed an intimate
acquaintance. Our medicinal friend owned a pretty little estate; distant
a few miles from the city of P----, where he kept up a very neat
establishment, which was thoroughly appointed. Among his out-of-door
appurtenances, he maintained a modern bee-house, a choice dove-cot, and
a well-selected aviary; in the latter he had some choice poultry, and
into this the doctor invited his legal associate, one day, to examine
his specimens of cacklers and crowers.
There was a super-excellent "Bother'em" fowl among this collection,--a
rare hen, the many good qualities of which the doctor dilated on (as he
always did before his visitors), and the lawyer took a fancy to the
beauty, instanter; but this fowl was a great favorite, and the doctor
would neither sell, lend, or give her away; and then the visitor begged
some of her eggs, as a last favor. But the doctor was selfish in regard
to this particular bird--he wanted the breed exclusively to himself. It
was of no avail, however, and his friend promised to embrace the first
opportunity to steal the hen, and all the eggs he could find, if his
request were not complied with; whereupon the doctor at length
reluctantly promised to send him a dozen within a week, provided he said
nothing about it. He would do it for _him_, as a particular favor--and
so he was as good as his word.
The young lawyer had his poultry-yard, also; and, selecting a fine hen,
he quickly set her upon the choice Bother'em eggs, resolved to have as
good a show as his neighbor. But three weeks passed--four, and
upwards--but no chickens appeared! He broke up the nest, at last, and
then called upon the doctor at once.
"What luck, Tom?"
"Not a chick!"
"No!"
"Not a _one_. The eggs weren't good."
"No? That is queer," continued the doctor, "when I took so much extra
pains with 'em."
"Extra pains--how?"
"Why, _I boiled every one of 'em_, the last thing before I sent 'em down
to you!"
And so he did. Tom grinned, squirmed, and went home,--but that wasn't
the last of this joke.
Six months afterwards, the keen-witted doctor visited the lawyer's
little place, where he saw a magnificent large Bucks County rooster
stalking about in the latter's yard.
"By Jove, Tom! That's a rouser," exclaimed the doctor, enthusiastically,
"'pon my word! Where d'you get him?"
"Pennsylvania--Buxton's; a fine fellow that. Only eight months old."
"Will you sell him?"
"Yes--no; I reckon not, on the whole."
"I'll give you an X for him."
"Well, take him. He's worth twenty dollars; but you shall have him for
ten dollars, being an old friend."
The doctor placed the huge crower in his gig immediately, went home,
killed off two of the finest Dorking roosters in the county, and put the
new comer into his nice poultry-house; congratulating himself upon
having at last secured a "tip-top breeder," and nothing else.
At the end of the season, however, he complained to his friend the
lawyer that he had had but very few eggs latterly; he could raise no
chickens from them--not a _one_; and he didn't think much of the
ten-dollar bird he purchased of him, any way.
"He's a rouser, Bill, surely," said the lawyer, with a knowing smirk,
repeating the doctor's exclamation on first beholding the rooster.
"Well, yes--large, large--but--"
"And a finer _capon_ I never sold to anybody in my life!"
"A _what_!" screamed the doctor, springing towards his horse, which
stood near by.
"What's the price of _b'iled eggs_, Bill?" roared the lawyer, in reply.
"Ten dollars a dozen, by thunder!" was the answer, as the doctor drove
his rowels into the sides of his nag, and dashed away from his friend's
gate a _wiser_ if not a better man.
Many amateur poultry-raisers resorted to the most ridiculous and
injurious shifts for remedies against the ills that hen-flesh is heir
to. I have known certain friends who passed two or three hours every
morning in running about their fowl-premises with pill-box and
pepper-cup in hand, zealously dosing their drooping chickens, to their
certain destruction. And some of the "doctors" went into _jalap_, in
cases of colds, fevers, &c., in their fowls. We should as soon think of
using arsenic, or any other poison, under such circumstances. The
internal formation of a hen is scarcely believed to resemble that of a
human being, surely; and why such medicinal applications, pray? This
reminds us of a private joke, by the way, that was "let out" by a young
fancier (out West) a little while ago.
He had a bad cold himself, and had mixed "summat hot" to swallow, one
evening. His servant informed him that his favorite Cochin-China crower
had been ill for a day or two; and he ordered twenty grains of jalap to
be prepared for his fine bird. By some mistake his toddy was given to
the crower, and he swallowed the hen-medicine himself, and retired to
bed.
He slept soundly for a time, but was visited with shocking dreams. He
fancied himself to be a huge rooster--one of the biggest kind; that he
had taken all the premiums at all the shows, and that he had finally
been set to hatch over a bushel of Shanghae eggs. It was the twentieth
day, at last, and the chickens commenced to come forth from their shells
beneath him. He dare not move,--his fowl-cure was at work,--and his
critical position, for the time being, can be better imagined than
portrayed. With a desperate effort, and a shrieking crow, he at length
sprang from his couch, dashed out of doors, and, since the day
afterwards, has resolved to eschew the use of jalap among his
poultry,--a determination which, in all candor, we recommend earnestly
to the hen-Galens who imagine that a hen is "a human."
It had now become an every-day occurrence to hear of black chickens
emerging from what were "warranted" pure white fowls' eggs; top-knot
birds peeped forth from the eggs of pure-bred anti-crested hens; and all
colors and shapes and varieties of chickens, except those that they
were purchased for, made their appearance about the time of hatching the
eggs so bought.
All the old-fashioned fowls were utterly discarded. Cochin-Chinaism,
Shanghae-ism, Bother'em Pootrumism, was rampant. The fancy egg-trade had
begun to fall off sensibly. "The people" had had enough of _this_ part
of the enterprise, which was destined to prove so "immensely
profitable," if "judiciously and skilfully managed;" and the price was
reduced to the miserable sum of three to five dollars a dozen, only, as
customers chanced to turn up.
From the commencement of the trade, in 1849, down to the month of
August, 1853, I had a continued and certain sale, however, for every egg
deposited upon my premises, at _my_ price.
But this, though an exception, was not to be wondered at. _I_ kept and
raised only the "genuine" article.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XXII.
TRUE HISTORY OF "FANNY FERN."
I was riding through Brookline, Mass., one fine afternoon, on my
round-about way home from a fowl-hunting excursion in Norfolk County,
when my attention was suddenly attracted by the appearance and carriage
of the most extraordinary-looking bird I ever met with in the whole
course of my poultry experience.
I drew up my horse, and watched this curiosity for a few minutes, with a
fowl-admirer's wonder. It was evidently a _hen_, though the variety was
new to me, and its deportment was very remarkable. Her plumage was a
shiny coal-black, and she loitered upon a bright-green bank in the
sunshine, at the southerly side of a pretty house that stood a few yards
back from the road. She was rather long-legged, and "spindle-shanked,"
but she moved about skippingly and briskly, as if she were treading upon
thin egg-shells. Her feet were very delicate and very narrow, and her
body was thin and trim; but her plumage--that glossy, jet-black,
brilliant feathery habit--was "too much" for my then excited "fancy"
for beautiful birds; and I thought I had never seen a tip-top fowl
before.
As I gazed and wondered, this bird observed me coquettishly, and,
raising herself slightly a tip-toe, she flapped her bright wings
ludicrously, opened her pretty mouth, and sent forth a _crow_ so clear
and sharp, and so utterly defiant and plucky, that I laughed outright in
her face. I did. I couldn't help it.
She noticed my merriment, and instantly flap went those glittering wings
again, and another shout--a very shriek of a crow, a termagant yell of a
crow--rang forth piercingly from the lungs of my sable but beautiful
inamorata.
This second crow was full of fire, and daring, and challenge, and
percussion. It seemed to say, as plainly as words could have uttered it,
"Who are _you_? What you after? Wouldn't you like to cage _me_
up--_s-a-y_?"
I laughed again, wondered more, stared, and shouted "Bravo! Milady, you
_are_ a rum 'un, to be sure!" And again she hopped up and crowed
bravely, sharply, maliciously, wildly, marvellously.
I was puzzled. I had heard of such animals before. I had read in the
newspapers about Woman's Rights conventions. I had seen it stated that
hens occasionally were found that "crowed like a cock." But I had never
seen one before. This _was_ an extraordinary bird, evidently.
There it went again! That same shrill; crashing, challenging crow, from
the gullet of the ebon beauty before me. O, _what_ a crow was that, my
countrymen! I resolved to possess this bird, at any cost. And I was soon
in communication with the gentleman who then had her.
"Is this _your_ hen, sir?" I inquired. And I think the gentleman
suspected me, instanter.
"Yes," he answered. "That is, I support her."
"Will you sell her?"
"No--no, sir."
"I will give you ten dollars for her."
Crack! Crash! Whew! went that crow, again. I was electrified.
"I'll give you fifteen----"
"No, sir."
"Twenty dollars, then."
"No."
"What will you take for her?"
"Hark!" he replied. "Isn't that music? Isn't that heavenly?"
"What _is_ that?" I asked, eagerly.
"My hen."
"What is she doing?"
"Singing," said the gentleman.
"Beautiful!" I responded. "I will give you forty dollars for her."
"Take her," replied her keeper. "She is yours."
"What breed is it?" I inquired.
"Spanker," said the gentleman, "but rare. It is one of Ellett's
importation--genuine."
"Remarkable pullet!" I ventured.
"Hen, sir, _hen_," insisted the stranger.
I paid him forty dollars down, and seized my prize, though she proved
hard to catch.
"She's much like the Frenchman's flea, sir," said her previous
possessor. "Put your finger on her, and she's never there. Feed her
well, however, keep her in good quarters, let her do as she pleases, and
she'll always crow--always, sir. Hear _that_? You can't stop her, unless
you stop her breath. She always crows and sings. There it is again!
Isn't that a crow, for a hen--eh?"
It was, indeed.
"Good-day," said the Brookline gentleman, quietly pocketing his money.
"Fanny will please you, I've no doubt."
"Fanny?" I queried.
"Yes; I call her '_Fanny Fern_,'" said the stranger to me, as I entered
my wagon; and, half an hour afterwards, my forty-dollar cock-hen, "Fanny
Fern," was crowing again furiously, lustily, magnificently, on the
bright-green lawn beneath my own parlor-windows.
"Fanny" proved a thorough trump. Bantams, Games, Cochins, Dorkings,
Shanghaes, Bother'ems, were _no_where when "Fanny" was round. She could
outcrow the lustiest feathered orchestra ever collected together in
Christendom. She was a wonder, that redoubtable but frisky, flashy,
sprightly, sputtery, spunky "Fanny Fern."
And didn't the boys run after her? Well, they did! And didn't they want
to buy her? Didn't they bid high for her, at last? Didn't everybody
flock to see her, and to hear "Fanny" crow? And _didn't_ she continue to
crow, too? Ah! it was heaven, indeed (and sometimes the other thing), to
listen to "Fanny's" voice.
When "Fanny" opened her mouth, everybody held their breath and listened.
"Fanny" crowed to some purpose, verily! She crowed lustily against
oppression, and vice, and wrong, and injustice; and she crowed aloud
(with her best strength) in behalf of injured innocence, and virtue, and
merit, exalted or humble.
And, finally, "Fanny" hatched a brace of chickens; and _didn't_ she crow
for and over _them_? She now cackled and scratched, and crowed harder
and louder and shriller than ever. The people stopped in the street to
listen to her; old men heard her; young men sought after her; all the
women began to "swear" by her; the children thronged to see her; the
newspapers all talked about her; and thousands of books were printed
about my charming, astonishing, remarkable, crowing "Fanny Fern."
I sent her to the fowl-shows, where she "took 'em all down" clean, and
invariably carried away the first premium in her class. Never was such a
hen seen, before or since. I was offered a hundred, two hundred, five
hundred dollars for her. I was poor; but didn't I own this hen
"Fanny,"--the extraordinary, wonderful, magnificent, coal-black,
blustering, but inapproachable and world-defying "Fanny"?
"I will give you _eight_ hundred dollars for her," said a publisher to
me, one day. "I want to put her in a book. She's a wonder! a star of the
first magnitude! a diamond without blemish! a God-send to the world in
1854!"
At this moment "Fanny" crowed.
"Will you take eight hundred?" screamed the publisher, jumping nearly to
the ceiling.
"No, sir."
"A thousand?"
"No."
"Two thousand?"
"No, sir."
"_Five_ thousand?"
"No! I will keep her."
And I did. What was five thousand dollars to me? _Bah!_ I had the
hen-cock "Fanny Fern." I didn't want money. My pocket-book was full to
bursting, and so was my head with the excitement of the hen fever. And
"Fanny" crowed again. Ah! _what_ a crow was Fanny's!
"Fanny" couldn't be bought, and so my competitors clanned together to
destroy her. The old fogies didn't like this breed, and they resolved to
annihilate all chance of its perpetuation. I placed her in better
quarters, where she would be more secure from intrusion or surprise. I
told her of my fears,--and _didn't_ she crow? She flapped her bright
black wings, and crowed all over. "Cock-a-doodle-_doo--oo--oo_!" shouted
"Fanny," while her sharp eyes twinkled, her fair throat trembled, and
the exhilarating tone of defiance seemed to reach to the very tips of
her shining toe-nails. "Cock-a-too--_roo--oo_!" she shrieked; "let 'em
come, too! See what they'll _do--oo_! I'll take care of _you--oo_! Don't
get in a _stoo--oo_! Pooh--pooh--poo--_poo_!"
Maybe "Fanny" didn't crow! And _I_ learned to crow. It was beautiful!
She crowed, and I crowed. We crowed together. She in her way,--I in
mine. The duet was mellifluous, cheering, soul-stirring,
life-invigorating, _profitable_.
"Fanny" went into New York State, crowing when she left, crowing as she
went, and continuing to crow until she crowed the community there clear
through the next fourth o' July, out into the fabled millennium. She
crowed Messrs. Derby & Miller into a handsome fortune, and Mason &
Brothers into ditto. She crowed one Hyacinth into the shreds of a cocked
hat and battered knee-buckles. She crowed the Hall breed of old hens so
far out of sight that the "search for Sir John Franklin" would be a fool
to the journey requisite to overtake that family. And still she
_crowed_.
The more they bade her stop, the more she wouldn't.
"Cock-a-tootle--_too_!" "I-know-what-_I_-shall--_doo_!"
"What-do-I-care-for--_yoo_?" "This-world-is-all--foo--_foo_."
"Leave-_me_-and-I'll-leave--_you_." "If-not-I'll-lamm--_you_--TOO--OO!"
And "Fanny" crowed herself at last into the good graces of two _long
brothers_ in Gotham, where she is now crowing with all her might and
main. Let her crow!
She was a remarkable "bird," that rollicking, joyous, inexplicable,
flirting, funny, furious "Fanny Fern." I hear her now again!
"COCK-A-DOODLE--DOO--OO!" "Young 'Un,--you-will-do!!"
"_Et--tu--Brute--o-o-o!!!_"
CHAPTER XXIII.
CONVALESCENCE.
One striking feature that exhibited itself in the midst of this mania,
was the fact that prominent among the leading dealers in fancy poultry,
constantly appeared the names of clergymen, doctors, and other
"liberally-educated" gentlemen.
In Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, and most of the Eastern States, this
circumstance was especially noticeable; and more particularly in
England. Whether this class of the community had the most money to throw
away, or whether their leisure afforded them the better opportunity to
indulge in this fancy, I cannot say; but one thing is certain,--among my
own patrons and correspondents, for the past five or six years, I find
the names of this class of "the people" by far the most conspicuous and
frequent.
There came into my office, one morning late in 1853, a Boston physician
(whom I had never seen before), who introduced himself civilly, and
invited me to ride a short distance with him up town. I was busy; but
he insisted, and his manner was peculiarly urgent and determined.
"My carriage is at the door," he said; "and I will bring you back here
in twenty minutes. I have some pure-blood stock I desire to dispose of."
"What _is_ it, doctor?" I asked.
"Chickens, chickens!" replied the doctor, briefly.
I assured the gentleman that I had near a thousand fowls on hand at this
time, and had no possible wish to increase the number.
"They are pure-bred--cost me high," he continued; "are very fine, but I
must part with them--come!"
I joined him, and we rode a mile or more, when he halted before a fine,
large house; his servant in waiting took his horse, and he ushered me
into his well-appointed poultry-house, at the rear of his dwelling.
The buildings were glazed in front and upon the roofs; the yards were
spacious and cleanly, and appropriately divided; the laying and hatching
rooms were roomy and convenient; the roosting-house was airy and
pleasant, and everything was, seemingly, in excellent order, and
arranged with good taste throughout.
"That cock cost me twenty dollars," said the doctor, calmly. "Those two
hens I paid eighteen dollars for. That bird, yonder, twelve dollars.
These five pullets stand me in about forty-five dollars. I have never
yet been able to hatch but one brood of chickens. The rats carried
_them_ off by the third morning after they came into this world. The
hens sometimes lay, I believe; at least, my man says so. I have never
_seen_ any eggs from them myself, however. I have no doubt this species
of fowls (these Changays) _do_ lay eggs, though. There are twenty-two of
them. Buy them, Mr. B----," continued the doctor, urgently.
I said no; I really did not want them.
"I _had_ nigh forty of them," continued the doctor, "two months ago. But
they have disappeared. Disease, roup, vermin, night-thieves, sir. Will
you buy them? John----drive them out!"
The fowls were driven into the main yard. There were but sixteen in all.
"Where are the rest, John?" inquired the doctor, anxiously. "There were
twenty-two here yesterday."
"I dunno, sir," said John.
"Drive 'em back, and box them up, John. Mr. B----, will you make an
offer for the remainder? To-morrow I shall probably have none to sell!
Will you give anything for them?"
I declined to buy.
"Will you permit me to send them to you as a present, sir?" he
continued.
I did not want them, any way. I had a full supply.
"What will you charge me, Mr. B----, to allow them to be sent to you?"
continued the fancier, desperately, and resolutely, at last.
I saw he was determined, and I took his fowls (fifteen of them), and
gave him ten dollars.
He smiled.
"I have had the hen fever," he added, "_badly_--but I am better of it. I
am convalescent, now," said the doctor. "You see what I have here for
houses; cost me over seven hundred dollars; my birds over four hundred
more; grain and care for a year, a hundred more. I am _satisfied_! Your
money, here, is the first dollar I ever received in return for my
investment. You see what I have left out of my venture of twelve or
thirteen hundred dollars; the manure, and--and--the lice!"
Such were the exact facts! His stock was selected from the Marsh and
Forbes importations, and the birds were good; but, by the time he got
ready to believe that it wasn't _all_ gold that glittered, the sale of
_this_ variety of fowl had passed by. A chance purchaser happened to
come along soon after, however, who "hadn't read the papers" so
attentively as some of us had, and who wanted these very fowls. I sold
them to him, "cheap as a broom," because the fever for this kind of bird
was rapidly declining. He paid me only $150 for this lot; which _was_ a
bargain, of a truth. The buyer was satisfied, however, and so was _I_.
These were but isolated instances. Scores and hundreds of gentlemen and
amateur fanciers found themselves in a similar predicament, at the end
of one or two or three years. Without possessing a single particle of
knowledge requisite to the successful accomplishment of their
purpose,--utterly ignorant of the first rudiments of the business,--they
jumped into it, without reason, forgetting the wholesome advice
contained in the musty adage, "look before you leap." And, after sinking
tens and hundreds or (in some cases) _thousands_ of dollars in
experiments, they woke up to find that they had _had_ the fever badly,
but, fortunately, were at last convalescent!
I was busy, all this time, in supplying my friends with "pure-bred"
stock, however, and had very little leisure to tarry to sympathize with
these "poor creeturs." The demand for _my_ stock continued, and the best
year's business I ever enjoyed, was from the spring of 1853 to May and
June, 1854; when it commenced to fall off very sensibly, and the
prospect became dubious, for future operations, even with _me_.
CHAPTER XXIV.
AN EXPENSIVE BUSINESS.
During the past six years I have expended, outright, for breeding stock,
and for appropriate buildings for my fowls, over four thousand dollars,
in round numbers--without taking into the account the expenses of their
care, and the cost of feeding.
Few breeders have spent anything like this sum, for this purpose,
_strictly_. In the mean time, the aggregate of my receipts has reached
(up to January, 1855) upwards of seventy thousand dollars. I have raised
thousands upon thousands of the Chinese varieties of fowls, and my
purchases to fill orders which came to hand during this term--in
addition to what I was able to fill from those I myself raised--have
been very large. And, while I have been thus engaged, hundreds and
hundreds of amateurs and fanciers have sprung up in various directions,
all of whom have had their share, too, in this trade.
To the fanciers--those who purchased, as many did at first, simply for
their amusement, or for the mere satisfaction of having good, or,
perhaps, the best birds--this fever proved an expensive matter. I have
known amateurs who willingly paid twenty, fifty, or a hundred dollars,
and even more, for a pair, or a trio, of what were considered very
choice Shanghaes. These fowls, after the first few weeks or months of
the purchaser's excitement had passed by, could be bought of him for
five or ten dollars a pair! Yet, his next-door neighbor, who would not
now take these identical birds for a gift, scarcely, would pay to a
stranger a similarly extravagant amount to that which had a hundred
times been paid by others before him, for something, perhaps, inferior
in quality, but which chanced to be called by the most popular name
current at the moment.
Thus, for a time, bubble number one, the _Cochin-Chinas_, prevailed. The
eggs of these fowls sold at a dollar each, for a long period. Then came
the _Shanghaes_, of different colors,--as the yellow, the white, the
buff, or the black,--and took their turn. Many thousands of these were
disposed of, at round rates. The smooth-legged birds at first commanded
the best price; then the feathered-legged. And, finally, came the Grey
Shanghaes, or "Chittagongs," or "Brahmas," as they were differently
termed; and this proved bubble number two, in earnest.
Everybody wanted them, and everybody had to pay for them, too! They were
large, heavy fowls, of China blood, plainly, but, with some few
exceptions, were indifferent birds. They were _leggy_, however, and
stood up showy and tall, and, to _look at_, appeared advantageously to
the fancy, at this period. In the maw of this bubble, thousands of good
dollars were thrown; and no race of poultry ever had the run that did
these Greys, under various names, both in this country and in England.
A most excellent Southern trade had sprung up, and large shipments of
fowls went forward to the West, from Massachusetts, and to Charleston,
Augusta, Mobile, New Orleans, etc., where the fever broke out furiously,
and continued, without abatement, for three years or more.
No buyers were so liberal, generally, and no men in the world, known to
Northern breeders, bought so extensively, as did these fanciers in New
Orleans and vicinity. They purchased largely, from the very start; and
the trade was kept up with a singular vigor and enterprise, from the
beginning to the end. Orders, varying in value from $500 to $1200 and
$1500, were of almost weekly occurrence from that region; and in one
instance, I sent forward to a gentleman in Louisiana, a single shipment
for which he paid me $2230! This occurred in September, 1853.
In this same year, I sent, from January to December, to another
gentleman (at New Orleans), over _ten thousand_ dollars' worth of stock.
The prices for chickens ranged from $12 or $15 a pair, to $25 or $30,
and often $40 to $50, a pair. These rates were always willingly and
freely paid, and the stock was, after a while, disseminated throughout
the entire valley of the Mississippi; where the China fowls always did
better than in our own climate.
It proved an expensive business to some of these gentlemen, most
emphatically. But they always paid cheerfully, promptly, and liberally;
and _knew_ the Yankees they were dealing with, a good deal better than
many of the sharpers supposed they did. For myself, I shall not permit
this opportunity to pass without expressing my thanks to my numerous and
generous Southern patrons, to whom I sent a great many hundred pairs of
what were deemed "good birds," and to whom I am indebted, largely, for
the trade I enjoyed for upwards of five years. I sincerely hope they
made more money out of all this than I did; and I trust that their
substance, as well as "their shadows, may never be less."
During this year, and far into 1854, the current of trade turned towards
Great Britain; and John Bull was not very slow to appreciate the rare
qualities of my "magnificent" and "extraordinary" birds; "the like of
which," said a London journal, when the Queen's fowls first arrived,
"was never before seen in England."
For upwards of a year, I had all _this_ trade in my own way.
Subsequently, some of the smaller dealers sent out a few pairs to
London, but "the people" there could never be brought to believe those
fowls were anything but mongrels; and, while these interlopers contrived
to murder the trade there, they at the same time "cut off their own
noses," for the future, with those who knew what poultry was, upon the
other side of the Atlantic.
I had _my_ shy at the Britons, seasonably!
But, a few months afterwards (as I shall show in a future chapter),
through the mismanagement of an ambitious dealer in other fancy
live-stock, the trade with England, from this side of the water, was
completely ruined. Over two hundred American fowls were thrown suddenly
upon the London market, and were finally sold there, at auction, for a
very small sum; and we were subsequently unable (with all our
chicken-eloquence) to make John Bull believe that even the _Grey
Shanghaes_ were any longer "scarce" with us, here!
CHAPTER XXV.
THE GREAT PAGODA HEN.
The most ridiculous and fulsome advertisements now occupied the columns
of certain so-called agricultural papers in this country, particularly
one or two of these sheets in New York State.
Stories were related by correspondents (and endorsed by the nominal
editors), regarding the proportions
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