The History of the Hen Fever. A Humorous Record

"By gar," he replied, "I 'av try vera hard all de time, I 'av plant potato an quash an corn an all dat, I 'av hire all my neighbors to 'elp, I buy all de manoor in town, I 'av spent all my monish – an wot you tink, now, Burnham – wot you tink I get – eh? Well, I git one dam big watermel'n, dass all; – but he never git ripe, by gar!"

When I had read the letter which I have just quoted above, I thought of my friend A – , and I said that my correspondent (like a good many before him), as did Mynheer A – , had undertaken a business which was entirely beyond his comprehension.

His letter was complimentary, (!) to say the least of it. But the young man was easily excited, I think. He did pay me some twenty-six dollars for four chickens, and from some cause (unknown to this individual) he got only white or black progeny from the yellow fowls I sent him! Was that any business of mine? He should have thanked, rather than have abused me, surely, – for didn't he thus obtain a variety of "pure" stock, from one and the same source?

Such fortune as this was by no means uncommon. The yellow stock was crossed in China, oftentimes, long before we ever saw it here; and there was only one means of redress that I could ever recommend to these unlucky wights, conscientiously, and that was to buy more, and try it again.

Sometimes "like would breed its like" in poultry; not often, however, within my humble experience! The amateurs were continually trying experiments, and grumbling, and constantly dodging from one "fancy" kind of fowl to another, in search of the right thing; and I endeavored to aid them in their pursuit; though they did not always attain their object, even when they purchased of me.

CHAPTER XLIII.

"STAND FROM UNDER!"

I have asserted, in another place, that, in all probability, in no bubble, short of the famous "South Sea Expedition," has there ever been so great an amount of money squandered, from first to last, as in the chicken-trade; and, surely, into the meshes of no humbug known to us of the present day have there been so many persons inveigled, as could now be counted among the victims of this inexplicable mania.

A copy of the Liverpool Express in January, 1854, now lies before me, from which I notice that the great metropolitan show in London, just then closed, surpassed all its predecessors; and that the excitement in England, at that time, was at its height. The editor asserts that "it was not an easy thing to exhaust the merits of the three thousand specimens of the feathered tribe there shown. No one," continues the writer, "who is at all conversant with natural history, can fail to find abundance of material for an hour's instruction and amusement. The general character of the exhibition has been already indicated; but this is one of those cases in which no description, however elaborate, can supply the place of personal inspection."

The British correspondent of the Boston Post, but a short time previously, writes that "the fowl fever, which has raged with so much violence in New England during the last three years, has extended to this country. There was a great crowing among the cocks at the late Smithfield cattle-show, and there seems to have been a still louder one at the Birmingham fair.

"The mania for the purchase of fine fowls," continues this writer, "was as furious there as if each of them had been the hen in the fable that found the jewel in the dunghill. Some pairs brought as high as forty pounds (two hundred dollars). One very fine pair of Cochin-Chinas sold for fifty pounds (two hundred and fifty dollars). In the catalogue some were marked at one hundred pounds, the valuation prices of owners who did not wish to sell. With you, in America, the rage for fowl-raising is simply one of fancy and profit,[15 - We have found it a very comfortable "rage," thank you!] but here it is the result – and a very beneficial one, too – of free trade. The price of eggs and poultry, owing to the great demand, does not fall; the price of grain, owing to free importation, does fall; and hence the great profit which is realized from keeping fowls. The Dorkings are great favorites, less difficult to raise than with you; and, though not abundant layers, still command, from the greater whiteness and superior delicacy of their flesh, a high price in the market. But the new Cochin-China varieties are in the greatest demand; the display of them at Birmingham exceeded all others, and they are now much sought after here."

Such accounts as these continually occupied the papers; and the fever had been kept furiously alive, by this means, until far into the year 1854. The most glowing accounts of the poultry-shows, at home and abroad, were kept up, too; but, in the mean time, Shanghae chickens multiplied rapidly, and grew up, and filled the barns and yards of "the people," – and at the same time they did not forget how to eat corn, when they could get it.

And, in spite of the best endeavors of interested parties to galvanize the hum into a continued existence, it was now evident to those who watched its progress, as I had done, that the death-rattle was clearly in its throat.

At this juncture I was reminded of the details of the mulberry-tree bubble, the tulip fever, and the Merino sheep speculation; and I had taken care not to become involved in the final ruin of the hen-trade (as I knew many had been, and more were destined to be), in the eventual winding-up of this affair, which was now close at hand.

A brief account of the famous sheep mania (so like the hen fever in its workings) will not be uninteresting at this point; and its record here, perhaps, will have the effect of opening the eyes of some chance reader, haply, who is, even now, half inclined to try his hand in the chicken-trade.

This sheep bubble originated in the year 1815 or 1816, immediately after the treaty of Ghent, and at a period when thousands of the American people were actually "wool-mad" in reference to the huge profits that were then apparent, prospectively, in manufacturing enterprises.

In the summer of the last-named year (as nearly as can be fixed upon), a gentleman in Boston first imported some half-dozen sheep from one of the southern provinces of Spain, whose fleeces were of the finest texture, as it was said; and such, undoubtedly, was the fact, though the sheep were so thoroughly and completely imbedded in tar, and every other offensive article, upon their arrival in America, that it would have been very difficult to have proved this statement. But the very offensive appearance of the sheep seemed to imbue them with a mysterious value, that rendered them doubly attractive.

It was contended that the introduction of these sheep into the United States would enable our manufactories, then in their infancy, to produce broadcloths, and other woollen fabrics, of a texture that would compete with England and Europe. Even Mr. Clay was consulted in reference to the sheep; and he at once decided that they were exactly the animals that were wanted; and some of them subsequently found their way to Ashland.

The first Merino sheep sold, if I recollect right, for fifty dollars the head. They cost just one dollar each in Andalusia! The speculation was too profitable to stop here; and, before a long period had elapsed, a small fleet sailed on a sheep speculation to the Mediterranean. By the end of the year 1816 there probably were one thousand Merino sheep in the Union, and they had advanced in price to twelve hundred dollars the head.

Before the winter of that year had passed away, they sold for fifteen hundred dollars the head; and a lusty and good-looking buck would command two thousand dollars at sight. Of course, the natural Yankee spirit of enterprise, and the love which New Englanders bore to the "almighty dollar," were equal to such an emergency as this, and hundreds of Merino sheep soon accumulated in the Eastern States.

But, in the course of the year 1817, the speculation, in consequence of the surplus importation, began to decline; yet it steadily and rapidly advanced throughout the Western country, while Kentucky, in consequence of the influence of Mr. Clay's opinions, was especially benefited.

In the fall of 1817, what was then deemed a very fine Merino buck and ewe were sold to a gentleman in the Western country for the sum of eight thousand dollars; and even that was deemed a very small price for the animals! They were purchased by a Mr. Samuel Long, a house builder and contractor, who fancied he had by the transaction secured an immense fortune.

Now, Mr. Long had acquired the sheep fever precisely as thousands of others (in later days) have taken the hen fever. And, in this case, the victim was really rabid with the Merino mania. In proof of this, the following authentic anecdote will be amply sufficient and convincing.

There resided, at this time, in Lexington, Ky., and but a short distance from Mr. Clay's villa of Ashland, a wealthy gentleman, named Samuel Trotter, who was, in fact, the money-king of Kentucky, and who, to a very great extent, at that time, controlled the branch of the Bank of the United States. He had two sheep, – a buck and an ewe, – and Mr. Long was very anxious to possess them.

Mr. Long repeatedly bantered and importuned Mr. Trotter to obtain this pair of sheep from him, but without success; but, one day, the latter said to the former, "If you will build me such a house, on a certain lot of land, as I shall describe, you shall have the Merinos."

"Draw your plans for the buildings," replied Long, instantly, "and let me see them; I will then decide."

The plans were soon after submitted to him, and Long eagerly accepted the proposal, and forthwith engaged in the enterprise. He built for Trotter a four-story brick house, about fifty feet by seventy, on the middle of an acre of land; he finished it in the most approved modern style, and enclosed it with a costly fence; and, finally, handed it over to Trotter, for the two Merino sheep. The establishment must have cost, at the very least, fifteen thousand dollars.

But, alas! A long while before this beautiful and costly estate was fully completed, the price of Merinos declined gradually; and six months had not passed away before they would not command twenty dollars each, even in Kentucky.

Mr. Long was subsequently a wiser but a poorer man. He held on to this pair till their price reached the par value only of any other sheep; and then he absolutely killed this buck and ewe, made a princely barbecue, called all his friends to the feast, and whilst the "goblet went its giddy rounds," like the ruined Venetian, he thanked God that, at that moment, he was not worth a ducat!

This is absolute, sober fact. Mr. Long was completely and irretrievably ruined in his pecuniary affairs; and very soon after this "sumptuous dinner," he took sick, and actually died of a broken heart.

Along in the summer and fall of 1854, having watched the course that matters were taking in the chicken-trade, I became cautious; for I thought I heard in the far-off distance something indefinite, and almost undistinguishable, yet pointed and emphatic in its general tone. I listened; and, as nearly as I could make the warning out, it sounded like "Take care!"

And so I waited for the dénouement that was yet to come. In the mean time, I had a friend who for five long years had been religiously seeking for that incomprehensible and never-yet-come-at-able ignis fatuus, a genuine "Cochin-China" fowl of undoubted purity!

I had not heard of or from him for some weeks; until, one morning, about this time, a near relative of his sent to my house all that remained of this indefatigable searcher after truth; an accurate drawing of which I instantly caused to be made – and here it is!

CHAPTER XLIV.

BURSTING OF THE BUBBLE

My friend John Giles, of Woodstock, Conn., has somewhere said, of late, "I often hear that the 'fowl' fever is dying out. If by this is meant the unhealthy excitement which we have had for a few years past, for one, I say the sooner that it dies out the better. But as to the enthusiasm of true lovers of the feathered tribe dying out, it never will, as long as man exists. It is part of God's creation. The thinking man loves and admires his Maker's work; always did; always will. And I have not the least doubt that any enterprising young man, with a suitable place and fancier's eye, would find it to his advantage to embark in the enterprise of fowl-raising for market."

Now, I don't know but John is honest in this assertion, – that is, I can imagine that he believes in this theory! But how he can ever have arrived at such a conclusion (with the results of his own experience before him), is more than I can comprehend.

Laying aside all badinage, for the moment, I think it may be presumed that I have had some share of experience in this business, practically, and I think I can speak advisedly on this subject. As far back as during the years 1839, '40 and '41, I erected, in Roxbury, a poultry establishment on a large scale, upon a good location, where I had the advantages of ample space, twenty separate hen-houses, running water and a fine pond on the premises, glass-houses (cold, and artificially heated, for winter use), and every appurtenance, needful or ornamental, was at my command.

I purchased and bred all kinds of domestic fowls there, and they were attended with care from year's end to year's end. But there was no profit whatever resulting from the undertaking, – and why?

The very week that a mass of poultry – say three to five hundred fowls – is put together upon one spot, they begin to suffer, and fail, and retrograde, and die. No amount of care, cleanliness or watching, can evade this result. In a body (over a dozen to twenty together), they cannot thrive; nor can the owner coax or force them to lay eggs, by any known process.[16 - Since this was written, I find in the Country Gentleman a communication from L.F. Allen, Esq., on this very subject, in which he says that "A correspondent desires to know how to build a chicken-house for 'about one thousand fowls.' If my poor opinion is worth anything, he will not build it at all. Fowls, in any large number, will not thrive. Although I have seen it tried, I never knew a large collection of several hundred fowls succeed in a confined place. I have known sundry of these enterprises tried; but I never knew one permanently successful. They were all, in turn, abandoned." The thing is entirely impracticable.]

To succeed with the breeding of poultry, the stock must be colonized (if a large number of fowls be kept), or else only a few must find shelter in any one place, about the farm or country residence. And my experience has taught me that five hens together will yield more eggs than fifty-five together will in the same number of months.

I honestly assert, to-day, that of all the humbug that exists, or which has been made to exist, on this subject, no part of it is more glaringly deceptive, in my estimation, than that which contends for the profit that is to be gained by breeding poultry—as a business by itself—for market consumption. The idea is preposterous and ridiculous, and no man can accomplish it, – I care not what his facilities may be, – to any great extent, upon a single estate. The thing is impossible; and I state this, candidly, after many years of practical experience among poultry, on a liberal scale, and in the possession of rare advantages for repeated experiment.

I do not say that certain persons who have kept a few fowls (from twenty-five to a hundred, perhaps), and who have looked after them carefully, may not have realized a profit upon them, in connection with the farm. But, to make it a business by itself, I repeat it, a mass of domestic and aquatic fowls cannot be kept together to any advantage whatever, their produce to be disposed of at ordinary market value.

The fever for the "fancy" stock broke out at a time when money was plenty, and when there was no other speculation rife in which every one, almost, could easily participate. The prices for fowls increased with astonishing rapidity. The whole community rushed into the breeding of poultry, without the slightest consideration, and the mania was by no means confined to any particular class of individuals – though there was not a little shyness among certain circles who were attacked at first; but this feeling soon gave way, and our first men, at home and abroad, were soon deeply and riotously engaged in the subject of henology.

Meantime, in England they were doing up the matter somewhat more earnestly than with us on this side of the water. To show how even the nobility never "put their hand to the plough and look back" when anything in this line is to come off, and the better to prove how fully the poultry interests were looked after in England, I would point to the names of those who, from 1849 to 1855, patronized the London and Birmingham associations for the improvement of domestic poultry.

The Great Annual Show, at Bingley Hall, was got up under the sanction of His Royal Highness Prince Albert, the Duchess of Sutherland, Lady Charlotte Gough, the Countess of Bradford, Rt. Hon. Countess of Littlefield, Lady Chetwynd, Hon. Viscountess Hill, Lady Littleton, Hon. Mrs. Percy, Lady Scott, and a host of other noble and royal lords and ladies, whose names are well known among the lines of English aristocracy.

But, as time advanced, the star of Shanghae-ism began to wane. The nobility tired of the excitement, and the people of England and of the United States began to ascertain that there was absolutely nothing in this "hum," save what the "importers and breeders" had made, through the influence of the newspapers; and while a few of the last men were examining the thickness of the shell, cautiously and warily, the long-inflated bubble burst! and, as the fragments descended upon the devoted heads of the unlucky star-gazers, a cry was faintly heard, from beneath the ruins – "Stand from under!"

I had been watching for this climax for several months; and when the explosion occurred, as nearly as I can "cal-'late," I wasn't thar!

CHAPTER XLV.

THE DEAD AND WOUNDED