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.