FANCIERS’ JOURNAL AND POULTRY EXCHANGE. 
(For Fanciers’ Journal.) 
REMINISCENCES OF THE “HEN FEVER.” 
BY G. P. BURNHAM. 
I aM an old man now! 
When I was five-and-twenty, and that was over five-and- 
thirty years ago, I “loved pigs and chickens.”” In the long 
period that has elapsed since then, I have never parted with 
one jot of my early regard for the beautiful and useful among 
the Creator’s goodly gifts to man. 
In my time I have, in one way or another, been in pos- 
session of some of the choicest breeds and broods of domestic 
‘poultry ever seen in this or any other country. I have had 
my fun, paid its cost (roundly), enjoyed the pleasures and 
comforts of raising chickens, submitted to the abuse that 
success in any enterprise of this character entails, contended 
with sharp competitors, made a respectable fortune in the 
business; first and last, had “a good time,” and am content. 
I propose to write, for the Fanciers’ Journal, an occasional 
reminiscence of former days, upon the topic of poultry and 
fowl-raising in America. And though the theme is nota 
little hackneyed, I shall submit, in this first paper, some ac- 
count relating to the true history of what is nowadays known, 
the world over, as the Brahma fowl. 
The ‘ Brahma” is so good a variety—it has always been 
so good—and breeders everywhere, at home and abroad, are 
so unanimous in giving it the preference, par excellence, 
when well managed, over-all others, as a single variety, that 
what I may have to say about this fowl, even at this late 
day, may prove readable to thousands who are now begin- 
ning the laudable undertaking of breeding poultry, on a 
large or a limited scale. 
- When, during the years 1848-9 to 1856-7, I bred this 
variety most extensively, I called them ‘‘ Gray Shanghais,”’ 
which, as I have often said before, I conceived the most 
appropriate cognomen for this breed, since the first birds of 
this tribe which I ever owned were light gray in color, 
which I purchased in Pennsylvania for $25 the pair, and 
these came from Shanghai, China. 
This cock and hen were identical in form, size, feathered 
leg, and all other characteristics, with the Brahma of to-day. 
Yet the party of whom I bought them, Dr. Kerr, of Phila- 
delphia, denominated them ‘‘Chittagongs.” I bred these 
one year, then obtained a few similar birds in New York, 
from on board a ship direct from Shanghai, through the late 
William T. Porter, of the old Spirit of the Times. This 
last lot were lighter colored, however. And fanciers who 
used to come to see my stock in Roxbury, and afterwards 
(twenty-five years ago, in Melrose), pronounced them too 
white to suit their then uncultivated tastes. 
Dr. John C. Bennett, of Plymouth, Mass., in those days 
a shrewd and enthusiastic breeder of all kinds of fancy 
fowls, who originated the famous ‘‘ Plymouth Rock”? vari- 
ety, made me a fabulous offer for my pair of ‘‘Gray Chitta- 
gongs’’ (the Philadelphia birds), and took them away. He 
bred them with a very light drab or buff Shanghai hen he 
had (I think of the Forbes’ importation), and produced a 
clutch of fine showy chickens, which he exhibited at the 
second or third Boston fowl show, to which he desired to 
give a specific name. 
In those long ago days of the ‘‘hen fever,’’ a good name 
for fowls was “a big thing ’’ towards success, among fan- 
ciers, in disposing of the stock they produced. The Doctor 
consulted me on this point, and in my own library, at Rox- 

ot 
bury, he took down an atlas. Turning to the Eastern coun- 
tries, he pored over China, Cochin-China, Hindostan, &c., 
and his eye lighted upon the Burrampooter River, in India. 
“ Kureka!’ cried the amiable Doctor, ‘‘I have found it! 
Here it is, and it’s a stunner !”’ 
And he pointed me to that unpronounceable word—Bur- 
rampooter—upon the map. 
‘What is it?’’ I quietly asked. 
‘“The name for my birds. Do you see? Grand, expres- 
sive, stylish, capital !’’ he continued. 
Thus it began. He shortly varied it to ‘‘ Brahmah-pootra,”’ 
the first portion of this term being the name of the chief 
deity of the Hindoos. But this compound was too lengthy. 
Then it was cut short to Brahmah, and finally, by universal 
approval, became Brauma. A very good name for a very 
good fowl, though I continued for years to call my stock— 
precisely like his, and bred originally from the same pair of 
‘“‘Chittagongs”’ with the lighter birds I got on shipboard in 
New York, from China—what they really were, to wit, 
“ Gray Shanghais.”’ 
Under this name, in 1852, I sent to her Majesty, Queen 
Victoria, the cage of mature birds, pronounced by the Brit- 
ish press and fanciers there ‘the finest domestic fowls ever 
seen in England,’ and the first of their species sent from 
America. These were the Light Brahmas. A few months 
afterwards, I sent to John Bailey, of London, a trio of 
Dark Brahmas (or dark gray Shanghais), from this same 
stock, which he put into the Birmingham Poultry Show, 
alongside of my fowls sent previously to the Queen, and 
contributed by His Royal Highness, Prince Albert. Mr. 
Bailey’s trio carried off the first prize, Her Majesty’s the 
second, and a pair of my birds, sent to Bailey, were sold at 
that show to Mr. Taylor, of Shepard’s Bush, for one hun- 
dred guineas ($500)! Mr. Bailey paid me $100 for this trio. 
Mr. Tegetmeyer, in his splendidly illustrated work on 
Poultry, furnishes admirable portraits of both these con- 
signments of Brahmas from my yards, and erédits me with 
being the first to introduce these superb varieties into Eng- 
land, which is fact. Her Majesty sent me a beautifully- 
framed copy of her portrait, by Winterhalter, which now 
hangs in my parlor at Melrose, and, as may well be under- 
stood, I was not set back on the Brahma question much 
after this episode in my chicken experience. 
This, in brief, is the trwe history of the original coining 
of the name “Brahma.’’ The theory set up by one writer, 
that ‘the first pair of Brahmas were brought from Lucki- 
poor up the Brahmapoutra River, in a ship to New York, 
by a sailor,’’ whose name has never been given, is sheer ro- 
mance and nonsense. But this is simply ‘“‘a part in the 
play”’ of the hen fever. 
It is not my purpose now, however, to enter into any con- 
troversy upon this subject. I will occasionally write a rem- 
iniscence of the old days, but always good-naturedly and 
truthfully, hoping that these contributions, if you choose to 
use them in your columns, will serve as a pleasant variety 
in the contents of your very agreeable weekly, Fanciers’ 
Journal. 

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(For Fanciers’ Journal.) 
BEE-KEEPING. 
I PRESUME it is true, that ‘‘every one has his fancy,” 
although the fancies of some are very odd. We havea man 
out here in ‘“Hoosierdom,’”’ who has a fancy for lawsuits. 
His name is seldom off the dockets of his county courts. 
