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.

The History of the Hen Fever. A Humorous Record · 第 17 / 47 章