40 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
April 15. 
that doorway. This incurable was presented to a neigh¬ 
bouring baronet, where he did duty for somo years after¬ 
wards by keeping guard in the coach-road, and attacking 
almost every one that went or came from the house : he met 
with an unnatural death. 
Even here we have an erratic fellow, who, hy-the-hy, does 
not belong to us ; he merely comes when he chooses to eat, 
barley for breakfast and barley-meal for dinner, or pick and 
choose anything to his fancy in the garden. Till within 
this few months he domineered sadly amongst our poultry, 
causing us no little anxiety when the young chickens were 
about: luckily the cock I mentioned above is a good hus¬ 
band, a kind father, and, withal, imbued with a considerable 
amount of spirit and spurs, and, I suppose, not relishing 
these autocratic principles, like a true English cock, he has 
lately given the invader of his rights and privileges a sound 
thrashing. Things go on much better in consequence ; so 
soon as he has eaten sufficiently he now takes his departure, 
and struts it in the park, when lionizers exclaim “ What a 
beautiful creature 1 ” They litttle know how small a share 
of credit is due to its proprietor for the plumpness of his 
appearance. He is perfectly welcome to improve his ap¬ 
pearance here, so long as he remains civil; he seems, how¬ 
ever, determined to fight; and this very afternoon a ring of 
spectators was formed to witness a battle between him 
and the gate-keeper’s cock. 
The silver hen pheasants are not particularly handsome 
either in form or feature; they are, however, spirited, and 
sometimes eccentric. One, I remember, took French leave, 
found her way to a woodman’s cottage at least a mile off, 
laid and roosted comfortably with his poultry, and never 
made an attempt to return home of her own accord; another 
took to a neighbouring rick-yard, allowed herself to be 
driven home, but would never come unless this practice was 
resorted to ; another took to the wood, and was seen somo 
time after making a comfortable and solitary meal off black¬ 
berries ; another took it into her head to lay forty-eigh t eggs 
as her share for the season ; and another, when let out after 
her laying season, as we supposed, bethought herself to 
steal a nest, and, when quite given up for lost, appeared 
again with a young and flourishing family. This is the only 
instance we had of a pheasant hatching her own eggs; we 
have enticed them to do so under every device in the 
plieasantry, but to no purpose. The late F. Cornwall, Esq., 
of Diddlebury Park, near Ludlow, tried, a great many years 
ago, to domesticate the silver pheasant, and just as he 
thought he had succeeded, they all started in a body to a 
barn a considerable distance off, into which they were de¬ 
coyed, captured, and brought back, to be confined for the 
future. One thing to be said of the silver breed in their 
perambulations, if not too far from home, they may be 
driven back almost as easily as a flock of geese or turkeys. 
The gold pheasants are much less sociable with man, not 
near so pugnacious amongst themselves, nor inclined to be 
quarrelsome with other species, though there is certainly no 
telling who's who. For instance, the plieasantry was divided 
by open wire-work, where the two varieties of birds were 
constantly within view of each other. It happened, for 
some reason, a golden cock bird was placed in the other 
partition, where was domiciled a male of the silver breed ; 
whether from some private pique, best known to gold, it is 
hard to say, suffice it, that he instantly set about his silver 
patronymic, and gave him a sound thrashing. Did the 
mere force of gold overpower the spirit of silver’s resistance, 
after the fashion of other mundane affairs ? or did silver 
condescend to treat the matter with contempt, seeing that 
no honour would come of it ? that he would he vainly con¬ 
tending against filthy lucre and not spurs, which were want¬ 
ing in his antagonist ? I quite made up my mind that gold 
was not justified in thus outraging the courtesy of silver's 
hospitality. 
If force of gold have any thing to do with affection , here 
is a fine chance for the lady pheasants. The male birds 
take extraordinary trouble and attitude to display their 
gilded adornments before the eyes of their lady loves, who, 
nevertheless, praise be to them, treat the matter with the 
most perfect nonchalance; in fact, are rather annoyed than 
otherwise, by this assiduous display of riches ; this polker- 
ising, tippeting attendance, so to speak. 
It is painful to witness the poor incarcerated hens ; their 
whole thoughts appear absorbed with the one idea of escaping 
from their enclosure. The perpetual activity with which they 
pace the beaten path near the wire-work, speaks plainly a 
life of intolerable captivity. 
Notwithstanding all the gaudiness bestowed upon their 
lords, the hens are quite as handsome. Their beautiful 
eyes, perfect form, and compact unassuming neatness, plead 
one very great excuse for all the fuss the males bestow 
upon them. Surely these are qualities to call forth admi¬ 
ration. * * I am compelled, however, sorrowing to say, 
they—the females—will not stay at home; that is to say, 
they will not live comfortably on a lawn, and bask in the 
sun, nor will they succumb to the circumscribed bounds of 
a shrubbery. Once give them their liberty, and they are 
sure as fate to be off, with their gallant lords dangling in 
their wake. 
I remember the first attempt at poultryizing the gold 
pheasant. Two cocks were let out without the hens, and 
away they flew, right on end, no one knew whither; felt 
themselves disconsolate, I suppose, and in the evening flew 
back again. This device answered pretty well ; by degrees 
they took to become tolerably sociable, generally kept near 
the plieasantry, and were prone to hide under the shrubs. 
One bird, ten years old, became particularly sociable; he was 
bold, would feed out of my hand, and follow me anywhere 
about the premises. Poor fellow! a puppy cur followed a 
man to the house one day, pounced upon the unsuspecting 
bird, and killed him in an instant. I prized that bird ex¬ 
ceedingly. I was not manly, and could not help shedding 
a tear for his loss. You will smile, probably, when I tell 
you the enclosed feathers are sent you as a memento mori. 
Well, no sooner were the hens allowed their liberty, than 
they took advantage of it in the largest sense of the word. 
They are much cleverer in a stolen march than the silver 
species. The male birds, by their colour, will often point out 
their whereabouts; though from their activity and likelihood 
to fly, capture becomes difficult. The same as poultry, they 
are greatly improved by changing the breed. We bred from 
the same stock a long time ; then a strange hen bird was 
purchased of Mr. Baily, of London, and the improvement 
was astonishing. A peculiar feature remained to this bird. 
When the young pheasants become too large for the coops, 
and were placed from their foster parents in the pheasantry, 
this hen immediately took to them, and performed the 
duties of a mother, calling them to feed, &c., and became 
as much attached to them as if she had gone through the 
whole natural process of the maternal affections. 
The common partridge will domesticate easier than the 
golden pheasant. A sitting of eggs was hatched and reared 
by a bantam, annually, up to 1847. A covey or two have 
been reared near the spot, and probably are to this day. 
The common pheasant will domesticate easier than all, 
though of course, like the others, disappearing in the breed¬ 
ing season. They are much more likely, however, to revisit 
the place of their nativity ; hard weather, or some particular 
crotchet at other times, best known to themselves, will often 
introduce them. A cock bird was presented, half-grown, 
the only one that was reared out of a sitting of eggs. He 
grew up very tame, roosted with the bantams, and if the 
hand was held up to him near his perch, he would peck at 
one furiously. I have no doubt but this bird would have 
grown up a solitaire, and remained upon the premises. He 
was taken and set at large in the wood, and most likely soon 
met with a cher ami. 
For those who breed the common pheasant for orna¬ 
ment, the course to adopt is to shut them up by the be¬ 
ginning of February, or some morning they will be missing; 
though not, I hope, like a brood, or at least part of a brood, 
we lost once. We had a man at work on the premises, by 
profession a drainer; a very good drainer, and an adept at 
poaching into the bargain ; a person capable of edifying on 
both subjects. We happened to be standing beneath a 
picturesque old yew tree, a favourite roosting place of the 
birds mentioned above, our drainer observed them, and re¬ 
marked—“ How fine they were! ” to which I tacitly assented. 
They were three cocks and two bens, just arrived at their 
full plumage. I did not relish his observation, and some¬ 
how wished those birds under lock and key; but as the man 
was at work on the premises, I let it pass, went to bed that 
night and slept on it, but did not awake in the morning to 
