January 9, 1866. ] 



JOURNAL OF HOBTICULTUEB AND COTTAGE GAEDENER. 



35 



■' I must really get a new pair, for these are nearly worn ont." 

 " First impressions are everything." Well, we must all o^-n 

 they ai-e a great deal. You may try to reason yom-self out of 

 it, hut you cannot. 



Now, I was detei-mined to let nothing spoil my first impres- 

 sions of Bingley Hall. I hegged friends not to tell me anytliing 

 about the ])lace. Had I heard it mentioned in the train I 

 intended to have instantly closed my ears with my forefingers, 

 unheeding what a pecuhar first imjiression I should be making 

 upon my fellow passengers. I wished my mind to be a sheet 

 of blank paper on the subject. Should Bingley Hall prove to 

 be a gr.iud feudal structure of the date of llichard the First, 

 built by Alfred de Bingley, well, be it so, but do not tell me 

 beforehand. Should it prove to be a brick budding, time of 

 Victoria, all well and good ; but do please let me get a fair 

 unbiassed first impression of it, that is all I want. 



The weather i? as fine for the Birmingham Show as can be 

 expected at this time of the year. If in December you have it 

 dry abovehead and not fi'ightfully cold, be thankful ; as to dirt 

 beneath, thick hoots on and you are all right. Bristol station 

 reached, and on by the Midland Railway. Cleai- of Bristol 

 smoke at last. On by Berkeley Road — would that I could see 

 Berkeley Castle, but I cannot, nor yet can I catch one glimpse 

 of the Severn. Gloucester ! well, there is the Cathedral — 

 " pretty church that for the country," as the Cockney said 

 (fact, I assure yon), when he first saw Canterbury Cathedral. 

 I am travelling on right comfortably with a poultry enthusiast 

 by my side, a clergyman of course ; a bright young girl, his 

 sister, just smitten with the love of fowls and Pigeons, opposite 

 to him, while my vis-a-vis is one of the outer world as to 

 poultry. He feigns to scorn " cocks and hens," and only goes 

 to Birmingham to see the cattle and the dogs. I am not hope- 

 less of him ; I think he is but half an opponent, and I have a 

 good hope that the taste shown in his beautiful garden wiU 

 shortly extend to his poultrj- yard, aud " those wretched mon- 

 grels " will be dispatched in a few months. Four friends in a 

 railway carriage, merrily chatting, berugged and great-coated, 

 with a poultry show at the end of the journey — nay, tlie poultry 

 show, and who would not be happy ? Cheltenham station, but 

 I see little of the town ; of Tewkesbury nothing. Worcester, 

 with its gi'eat bishop — a favourite, and no wonder, with the 

 late Prince Consort — is soon passed ; then on to the Black 

 Country, and soon near to Birmingham. Red brick houses, 

 smoky atmosphere, wet, black, narrow streets. On further, 

 creeping on, and things begin to improve. I noticed that at 

 the stations, especially from Gloucester onwards, I began to 

 see eager agricultural faces waiting for the train — faces saying 

 plainly, " We are going to the Cattle Show." I saw others 

 not whoUy agricultural, and yet eager, whom I knew I should 

 meet (I did), in the Poidtry Show, catalogue in hand. Of 

 Biugley Hall I heard nothing, happily. An innocent voice did 

 ask indeed, " Is it a large Show ?" and was answered, "Large! 

 I should think so ! A hundred and fifty pens of Go-me Bantams, 

 besides the Black, White, and Yellow, to say nothing of the 

 larger fowls." Then my friend at my left was an e.'vhibitor 

 at Bingley Hall. His thoughts were evidently there. How 

 he longed to see his pens, and yet the sublime indift'erence he 

 assumed I But in spite of it, how his conversation turned 

 again, aud again, and again — aud no wonder — upon his pro- 

 spects ! Now his spirits sank to zero — " They'll not be noticed !" 

 Anon they rose, turning to me with " Don't you think that 

 Dorking cock will do something?" Then at intervals, "Those 

 stupid Judges I I believe they only guess after all ; they really 

 know nothing about it." I do not think I dare become an 

 exhibitor, it must be so wearing to the nervous system. I 

 wonld advise all Ufe assurance companies to add to their terrific 

 questions this one. " Are you an exhibitor of poultiy ?" with 

 an N.B., " If you are, we cannot insure your life." 



At Birmingham at last, as that explosion in the proof-house 

 tells us — Birmingham, the land of guns and gunmakers. And 

 what a station this one in New Street is ! surely larger than 

 the one at Paddington. Soon, passing some beautiful sjieci- 

 mens of modem street architecture, I turn to the left, and am 

 one of a stream of people on their way to Bingley Hall. Pre- 

 sently I pass the famed Town Hall ; surely 'tis some beau- 

 tiful temple transplanted from Greece. As I trudge my not 

 weary way I remember that the Birmingham Show is fondly 

 called " Tiie Mother of Shows." Here the experiment of 

 bringing poultry together for exhibition and competition was 

 first tried in 1847, and here a show has been held each year 

 since. Birmingham is imdoubtedly well situated for the pur- 

 pose—in the heart of England, accessible from all sides, far 



enough north, and yet not too far, with an enterprising popu- 

 lation, many of them devoted from time immemorial to birds. 

 A first-prize at Birmingham is the ambition of many a poultry 

 fancier. " I don't care for little shows, I want to win at Bir- 

 mingham, I shall not be satisfied until I do :" this is the feel- 

 ing. Then other Committees feel, " What do the Birmingham 

 Committee do ? What do they say ?" Thus musing I walk 

 on ; but a placard catches my eye, " To the Dog Show," and. 

 to the left I see a new building called " Ciu'zou Hall," which 

 has become for the time " a howling wilderness." Further, 

 then a turn to the right, and I am brought to a standstill, 

 where carriages, and cabs, and foot-passengers are jostled to- 

 gether, and on the curbstones of the opposite pavement the 

 ticketless stand gazing and longing to enter. Passive in the 

 hands of a black-hehneted policeman (I wonder if Millais could 

 have brought tears to our eyes if instead of a Black Bruns- 

 wicker he had painted a pohceman), I am guided to a green- 

 baize screen, and pass, sorely jammed, through a turnstile, and 

 I am in — Bingley Hall. 



In front of me is a large hollow square, with a narrow gallery 

 above, and in the said square fat beeves, and cows, and sheep, 

 and pigs, some of the creatures marvellously fat ; there are 

 also agricultural implements to the left. I often wonder when 

 I see a number of people feeling fat cattle how many are the 

 wiser for so doing ; but it looks farmer-like aud learned, so it 

 is done. But a shrill crowing (I had not yet heard the howling 

 and yelpuig of the dogs), guides my feet to the left ; when, 

 descending a few steps, I enter a side hall not gaUeried, and 

 occupied, large as it is, by nothing but — poultry : number of 

 entries, 1C75 ! Think of that ! 1 wander romid perfectly 

 bewildered. I am free to confess that my first impression was 

 — confusion. I was confused, and permitted myself to be. 

 Round and round I went, then thi'ough the cross paths (so to 

 speak). My only hope the first day was to become used to the 

 scene, and on the next, h.aving learned something of localities, 

 to examine the different varieties of poultry at my leisure. 

 I was like a boy in London for the first time, he wonders and 

 is bewildered, then presently he begins to know squares and 

 streets. 



I ascend (after hours of wandering and wondering, feeling 

 that chaos had come back to earth, and that its inhabitants, to 

 make it more chaotic, were crowing cocks), the nan-ow gallery 

 before mentioned partly around the cattle hall, and find the 

 Pigeons ; a pleasant change this gentle and but occasional 

 cooing for ear-piercing crowing. Opposite to the Pigeons^ in 

 the gallery lay wondrous roots, and I am entreated to examine 

 them ; but in close proximity to beautiful birds I felt a rooted 

 objection to them, and would not notice them. I spend hours 

 in the Show, among the fowls or in front of the Pigeons, 

 gradually becoming used to the scene, and yet my principal 

 feeling was amazement ! Four o'clock comes, and with that 

 hour a tremendous crowd. I had kept myself tolerably per- 

 pendicular till then, occasionally spun round by some prepos- 

 terous crinoline, feeling as a top must feel the moment after 

 the string round it has been dra%\Ti suddenly away. But now 

 the crowd becomes crushing — almost dangerous. Darkness 

 was coming on when, getting more bewildered as the crowd 

 increased, I had the happiness to be recognised by my future 

 host, and carried off clear of Birmingham smoke and crowds 

 to his charming residence and hospitable hearth. Such of 

 Monday, my first day in Bingley Hall. — Wiltshire Rectoe. 

 {To be continued.) 



PHILOPERISTEEON SOCIETY. 



This Society, formed in 1847 for the improvement of oveiy variety 

 of Pige*n, held its nineteenth auniversai-y at the Freemasons' Tavern 

 on Thursday last. The attendance of visitors -was not quite so nume- 

 rous as on many former occasions ; nevertheless, a vast number were 

 admitted by tickets to the great hull of the Freemasons' Tavern, in 

 which the Exhibition was held. Those who had not previously wit- 

 nessed this interesting collection must have been highly gi-atified at 

 the sight of such a number of Pigeons of almost every variety known 

 to the fancier. 



A splendid collection of Caniers was exhibited by Messrs. Square, 

 Date, Hedley, and Everitt. A Blach cock, the ju-operty of the first- 

 named gentleman, elicited much admiration — in fact, a finer specimen 

 is seldom seen, the wattle being perfection. A Dun hen, the property 

 of Mr. Date, was also much admired. 



Mr, Wieking as usual showed some superb specimens of Magpies, 

 Turbits, Fantails, Jacohius, &c., all in most beautiful condition and 

 feather. 



Almonds were better represented on this occasion than they hava 



