March 31, 1881. ] 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
205 
cottage or to a snug corner in a thatched shed. Coops should be 
made of good inch boards, and those who cannot make and can¬ 
not afford to buy good coops have no business to rear chickens, 
unless they can give them the constant attention that the cottager 
henwife does. Coops for ordinary sized fowls should be at least 
2 feet 6 inches wide, 2 feet deep from front to back, and 2 feet 
high in front, the roof sloping back to about 10 inches from the 
ground. Of course they must have detached fronts to shut up at 
night, but these must not entirely close them up. We always 
leave 3 inches at least at the top of their fronts open for ventila¬ 
tion, and this is protected by a wooden shelter in shape like the 
“bonnet” blind of a shop window when let down. We are con¬ 
vinced that far more chickens are killed by overheating and foul 
air in coops than by cold. Only those who have opened close 
coops in the morning can have an idea of the atmosphere which 
unfortunate chickens are constantly compelled to breathe. 
Good coops being provided, it is of much importance where they 
are placed. No situation is so good as a shed facing south, and 
with a dusty dry floor. Sudden changes of wind will in such a 
place have, little effect upon the chickens; they can run out in the 
sunshine, and retire from rain and snow. We always keep some 
of our own best poultry houses vacant for coops. The doors are 
always left open, save while the frost is on the grass or a snow 
storm is going on. Fresh soil and ashes are put down on the 
floor, and there we find the young birds thrive. Of course every 
one has not spare sheds ; those who have not will find the best 
substitute for them in banks and hedges. In this country, where 
in spring our cold chiefly comes from biting wind, which is often 
accompanied by hot sun, only those who have tried it know the 
warmth to be found on the south side of a thick hedge or sloping 
bank. If this is so perceptible to human beings, much more must 
it be so to tiny chickens close to the ground, who are perfectly 
protected by the bank or hedge from all draught. It is often easy to 
throw up a bank of turves and so make a perfect place for a coop, 
or the protection of the roots of some old tree may be looked for. 
Such places are the natural resort for shelter of all the gallinaceous 
tribe. 
Lastly, as to the flooring of coops. Where the soil is light and 
dry it is the best of all bottoms in a pulverised state. Where, 
however, it is sticky and heavy, sifted ashes will much improve it; 
if there is a little wood ash among the coal ash so much the better. 
Coops with wooden bottoms we never use, save for Bantams and 
delicate fancy Ducks. Neither of these races can bear the chill 
of the ground in cold wet weather, and must be lifted o£E it. Our 
own coops for them have wooden drawer floors, of which there 
are two to each coop ; one is aired and dried whilst the other is 
in use. They are made by Messrs. Reynolds, and are called “The 
Shelter ” coop. Of the more expensive coops we have never had 
any at all to equal them in ingenuity of make or practical utility. 
For such delicate birds it is an economy to have one or two really 
superior abodes. Of course the drawers when in use are covered 
with sand, light ashes, or soil to facilitate cleaning. Such has 
been our experience as to coops ; we will give in another number 
that as to foods.—C. 
THE DORKING FOWL. 
The article on the above in a recent number of the Journal 
from the pen of so excellent a fancier and breeder as Mr. 0. E. 
Cresswell is well worthy of the careful perusal and thoughtful 
consideration of those who take an interest in the Dorking fowl 
past and present. Like Mr. 0. E. Cresswell I have been a poultry 
and Pigeon fancier from my boyhood. Forty-eight years ago I 
commenced the keeping of poultry with Bantams and white 
Aylesbury Ducks ; from then till now I have continued a fancier 
more or less as regards keeping stock of my own. In the first 
edition of the “ Poultry Book ” some of the birds delineated were 
from my yard—notably the White Dorking cock, for I was a 
Dorking fancier in 1853 as now. He was a young bird when I 
painted from him, as may be seen by reference to his spurs, and 
his weight at that time was 10 lbs. all but 1 oz. The Silver- 
spangled Hamburghs were also from my birds. Although I 
seldom or ever exhibited, yet many of my stock took high 
honours even in Am ca, especially my White Cochins, &c.; 
therefore I think Mr. 0. E. Cresswell is scarcely within the mark 
when he writes somewhat slightingly of those fanciers who from 
various causes do not exhibit. 
The Dorking has during all the long years of my poultry fancy 
been one of the chief objects of my attention, and for many 
reasons, one being that several of my relatives being well-to-do 
farmers, Dorkings were the variety of fowl that I was most amongst, 
and from which as an artist I made many studies long before the 
poultry shows came into vogue. I also made studies from the 
Dorkings at the Zoological Society’s Gardens, and from almost 
the first at Birmingham I have attended professionally as well as 
a fancier until the last year or so. 
In 1853 and thereabouts I saw the stocks of many of the best 
Dorking fanciers—Admiral (then Captain) Hornby’s, the splendid 
birds of Mr. Fisher Hobbs, Captain Fairlie, and many others. I 
therefore feel that I am somewhat competent to give an opinion 
on the Dorking ; the more so, as I not only saw the birds of the 
period I mention, but made notes and sketches of them. What I 
write is from personal observation, and not from books or period¬ 
icals, &c., like others in many instances are doing. Mr. 0. E. 
Cresswell’s paper I think, old and good fancier as he is, is worth 
therefore, as I have said before, grave consideration. I shall 
divide the subject into the same number of heads that he has, 
and proceed to give my unbiassed opinion. 
Form and Size .—As regards form I do not consider the present 
Dorkings equal to those of some thirty years back. They are 
longer on the leg and not so wide. In the old Dorking the keel 
of the breast bone was sunk in, and the flesh rounded up from it 
like that of a fat Partridge ; and to my mind such formation, 
only much enlarged, could not be surpassed for a table fowl. In 
the present Dorking the keel of the breast bone stands up, and 
the flesh slopes from it. Again, the birds are not nearly so narrow 
in the pelvis as the old, thereby carrying more offal and clearly 
showing crosses. Mr. 0. E. Cresswell is somewhat wrong, though 
possibly right in the main, when he says that the Dorkings used 
to be judged from weight more than now. I think this must not 
be taken as representing fact at Birmingham, for I well remember 
going round the show some years ago with the best of all judges 
of the Dorking—Mr. John Baily, and I remarked to him that 
the first-prize bird was less than several others, when he said, “A 
Dorking was a fowl that was not judged from mere size and 
weight, but more for its quality and with this dictum I entirely 
concur. I am quite ready to admit that the modern Dorking is 
larger and more heavy, but much of the weight has been gained 
by the largeness of bone. There is much more offal in the modern 
Dorking. The constant aim of the old Dorking breeder was to 
get as much flesh as possible with as little bone. Again, how 
large ought a table fowl to be ? The present fancy seems to be 
a rage for size, and everyone knows who knows anything of 
anatomy that the larger the frame the larger and coarser the 
tissues that form the muscles must necessarily become, for they 
do not increase in number according to the size of the bird ; 
therefore, in large size we lose quality, and for no purpose. I 
had a fowl cooked a short time since that weighed 5^- Its. when 
ready for the spit. This is small to what the modern Dorking 
fancier tries for, and yet I venture to say that no one, more espe¬ 
cially a lady, would accept the liver wing if properly cut off on 
account of its size. It would be a good dinner for a man ! Two 
fowls of 4 lbs. each when ready for the cook would be far prefer¬ 
able, and would I am sure be much more relished ; and yet we 
are told there is an advance in the Dorking as a table fowl be¬ 
cause it is 3 lbs. heavier than it used to be. Decidedly, in the 
opinion of very many it is not so good, and what goes partially to 
prove this is that there are several already trying to produce a 
good table fowl with less bone, finer meat, and less in size. This 
is a well-known fact, and one of our best judges—Mr. Tegetmeier 
—is among the number. Let the Dorking fanciers look 1o it. 
Some years ago that excellent judge of the Dorking, Mr. John 
Baily, told 'me that “ the Dorking as a table fowl left nothing to 
be desired.” It is long since I have seen Mr. Baily to converse 
with him on the subject, but I much doubt if he would say the 
same of the exhibition Dorking of the present time. 
Colour .—I am by no means alone in much disliking the colour 
now called “fashionable.” It makes a dark dingy-looking bird 
in comparison to the old bright browns and greys with the black 
tips to their feathers. Hereabouts we have thoroughly made up 
our minds not to have more of the sooty-looking birds. We will 
neither buy them nor their eggs for sitting. The colour was got 
by crossing and bred back to the cross, and is not the true 
Dorking colour ; and we are determined not to have it forced 
upon us by a few breeders and judges backed up by some of the 
press. Some few years ago some breeders of the Spangled Ham¬ 
burgh fowls got some foolish judges to back them up with the 
idea that all the cock birds should have hens’ tails, and for awhile 
—with the help of the press—they had their way, and made a 
good profit by it, until “common sense” would stand it no longer, 
and broke down the combination. It must now be so with the 
nearly black mixture so-called Dorking. 
Colour of the Feet .—In all my long experience I never knew of 
dark legs in a Dorking till of late. We are told by the Dorking 
breeders themselves “it is a great blemish,” and yet they will 
