CROSSING PIT FOWL

By Andrew P.O’ Conor, 1929

As all my early success with game fowl was due to crosses between strains that were different in every important point, except high courage, I should be an advocate of crossing, and I must confess that I am, until the desired type of game fighting cocks are produced, and then a judicious system of inbreeding should be strictly adhered to as long as the strain retains its vigor.

Forty years ago, when there were so many high-class in-bred strains, crossing was not as hazardous as it is today, and while every cross then was not successful, I never heard of an instance where the mating of a game cock and game hen produced cocks of a low order of courage. We hear of it quite frequently these days, but we know it is not true.

After forty years of the most intense inbreeding, I am sure that it is the only system by which the desirable qualities of strains can be maintained.

There has never been a year when I have not made crosses between cocks and hens of my own old strains, and frequently with cocks which I know were bred right, which were presented to me by real friends. I have never known a "first cross" that did not produce good fighters, and with only one exception, game cocks, but none of the crosses were as good as the strains which we made with the Slattery (Kearney) Slip Spur blinker cock, and Eslin Red Quill hen. While I never saw a pure Red Quill cock in battle, many cockers whom I knew very well, told me they were more like the Kearney brown reds, when at their best, than any cocks they had ever seen. So, the bringing together of these two strains, produced a family of fighters which were, I was told, superior to either strain.

In 1892, I bred a cock which was presented to me by that great California cocker, Captain Anthony Greene.

In breeding, he was out of a hen of the August Belmont strain, by a Jap cock, of the Shamo strain.

I mated the grade Jap cock to four of my best formed Black and Tan hens. (Kearney-Eslin). The produce consisted of forty of the most beautiful stags I ever saw.

I sent 25 of them to Capt. James Gee Oakley, of Alabama, who put them on first class walks. In 1894, we made a 21 cock main with L. H. Hanna, Esq., of Memphis, Tenn. Mr. Hanna was the surviving member of the famous firm of Sledge and Hanna.

Capt. Oakley had fought several of the grade Japs in hacks, to test them. In those days, Capt. Oakley was one of the great plungers of the South, and he matched a blinker Jap for $500 a side, and won. He was satisfied with their gameness and fighting quality, so we made the main with Mr. Hanna, to fight at the Montgomery Park race track at Memphis, for $200 and $2,000.

I think we had up 15 of these grade Japs, seven or eight of which were matched. Mr. Hanna showed a great many small cocks, thus eliminating the largest Japs. 1 fed them at the race track, and had them, in what I considered, good condition.

However, they were very ordinary fighters, while absolutelÿ game, they lacked the spirit with which I was familiar in the Black and Tans. Nearly all of them were defeated, but their gameness was greatly admired.

Mr. Hanna and several of his friends visited my cockhouse the following day to see the wounded cocks. I cut them all out, gave them a real test, which they stood with the highest courage.

Ounce for ounce, they were stronger cocks than the Black and Tans, and I then learned that great strength is not essential to success in the pit. A few months later, I decided to satisfy myself as to the quality of the grade Jap, in a test with five Black and Tan cocks, in blunt 1 1/4 inch spurs. I fed both lots of cocks, and as the try-out was in private, with a few friends present, there was no favoritism shown. The test convinced me that the grade Jap could not win one fight out of five against the Black and Tans. I then destroyed every grade Jap, except one hen, a sister in blood to these cocks.

I bred a Red Quill—Colored Black and Tan cock to her for four years. She produced good, honest, consistent fighting game cocks. After she died, I bred the same cock to one of her first daughters. The cocks were big, soft, clumsy and poor fighters, and the last of them were fought in a long heel main, in the Theatre at Monongah, West Virginia, in a 15 cock main against Hannigan and Spillman. I won the main, but all the grade Japs lost. I then destroyed all that family of grade Japs, and have had no cause to regret it, but it can be truthfully said, no cocks I ever saw were gamer, under any and all conditions, and when I say "game" I mean the sort that will stand a test as long as he lives, be it one or seven days.

A few years later, Capt. Greene was having great success with a cross of Japs and Charley Brown's Shawlnecks. He sent me a pair of hens of that family, to breed under a cock of mine.

I mated them with a little Kirkpatrick-Costa Rica cock, that weighed 3:10. I walked 20 stags of that mating, got back 15, and during my absence in England, my brother, James, shipped them to Capt. Greene, to Seattle, Washington. With these 15 cocks, and a few of his own breeding, he won three 13 cock mains, beating the "Mugwumps," "Red Cubans" and Pierce Shufflers, and closed the season with 12 live cocks of the 15 Jim sent him.

Unfortunately, we destroyed all the sisters to these phenomenal cocks.

They were the last grade Japs bred by me.

We have always believed that if we had bred the Greene original grade Jap cock to our Kirk—Costa Rica hens, the result would have been more satisfactory. The hens of that family were very small—few of them weighing over 2: 8, and the Jap was a whale of a cock.

Capt. Oakley bred from a few of my Black and Tan— Jap cocks, over as good hens as there were in the world. A jet black, round head cock from one of his matings, was loaned by Capt. Oakley to the late J. P. Mayberry, who bred him over hens that were sired by a Red Horse cock of mine, and the produce earned world-wide fame, as "Mayberry's Black Roundheads." They were absolutely unbeatable during the life time of Capt. Mayberry, and they were as game as cocks ever get to be, until crossed with bad cocks.

During my first years with the produce of the 1885 Iùslin Red Quill hen, I fought a great many cocks that were Red Quill in color. Their success was widely heralded throughout the cocking centers of this country, and I received many inquiries concerning them, among which was one from Judge Dan Gordon, of Alabama, who wanted to buy a pure Red Quill cock.

Alabama was at that time virtually headquarters for Eslin Red Quills, due to the long and intimate association between U. S. Senator W. C. Sherrod, Sr., and the Eslins. In replying to Judge Gordon, I stated there was not, as far as I knew, a pure Red Quill cock in the world, but I had some grade Red Quill stags, and I would give him one.

The Judge did not want to accept him as a gift, but as I would not sell, he accepted him. I shipped, what I considered a good stag, but he did not please the Judge, who preferred high stationed fowl, but he must not have known anything about Red Quills, if he did, he would have known that they were a very low-set family of fowl. He did not breed to him. Later in the year, his friend, Col. F. E. Grist invited him to send over some cocks and stags for the final hack meeting of the season.

Among the lot sent by the Judge, was my grade Red Quill stag. He was fought and defeated.

The following story was well known to hundreds of Southern sportsmen, being a favorite story of both Judge Gordon and Col. Grist.

When Capt. Anthony Greene and I went to New Orleans, in the winter of 1893, to fight Col. Grist a series of i hree 21 cock mains, in the old Spanish cock-pit, the story of my stag was told there, to, among others, W. L. Allen, originator of the famous Allen Round Heads.

This is the crux of the story, told by Col. Grist:  fought the Red Quill stag early in the morning: he was defeated and thrown into an adjoining room, apparently dead.

"We fought thirty-five or forty cocks and stags, and stopped when it was too dark to see. We had dinner, and afterwards, a poker-game, which lasted well into noon I he next day. Some of the boys went to their homes, some ot• them turned in at my house, and slept until late the next morning. Judge Gordon was among my guests. There were a few cocks fought that he wanted to send home to use the following season over some hens. We repaired to the cock-house, and the weather being very hot, the stench issuing from the room was sickening.

"The Negro boy who was employed by me to attend to the fowl, had got drunk, and could not be found. In some way, the doors of the cock-coops were left open, amd I never saw such a mess—dead and dying cocks all over the floors of both rooms, which was as silent as the grave. We heard a weak crow, which was the only sign of life among them. I searched around and found it was the Red Quill stag. He was the only thing in the place that would show fight.

"I told Judge Gordon, the stag may not be a fighter, but he is the gamest thing I ever saw, and if he lives, I will mate him with the best hens I have. He was carefully nursed during the long summer months, and by Spring he had recovered. I bred him to my favorite hen, and then put him over a yard of hens. Nearly every stag he sired was just like him, except their legs were yellow. The produce from that Red Quill cock are. the best and gamest fowl I ever saw." Hens from that cock were the roundation upon which Allen's Roundheads were made. The record of the Allen fowls prove that when they were at their best, they were wonderful fighters.

While fighting a main against Doctor Boteler at Garvey's pit, twenty-five or twenty-six years ago, I fought a Whitehackle cock that got his top beak knocked off the

first pitting, and he was kicked around the pit for over an hour. The odds against him were $100 to $1. When those who backed my cock "whispered" their advice to me to give up the fight and save this wonderful game cock, I replied, as soon as his head clears, he'll win. His flesh was as "responsive" in my hands, as when first pitted— that is, he had not loosened up, which is a sure sign that a cock has control of his muscles.

Finally, he "awoke" and he must have thought he was back on his walk, as he started "talking" as cocks talk to hens. When pitted on the score, he tore across as though he had never been touched with a gaff, and his blows could be heard clear out on the street, 100 feet away. He won in that pitting. He was of the "Picket" family. Col. W. H. Perkins, of Richmond, Va., (who is brother-inlaw of the famous Lady Astor, of England) asked me for the cock, which I gave him. He wanted him for Dr. F. S. Rowley, of Rock Hill, S. C. Col. Perkins shipped the cock to the Doctor, who bred him to Jim Norwood's Warhorse hens, and producede some wonderful fowl. Charley Moore, of Spartanburg, S. C. , had some black fowl from Mr. Mayberry, of Alabama, and got a cock from Dr. Rowley, bred as above, and mated him with the Mayberry hens, and produced the Black Bee Martins, which were one of the best and gamest strains I ever saw.

I fought Mr. Moore three mains, and while I defeated him, his loss was due largely to inferior condition. Mr. Moore and I had arranged to enter into a partnership to fight a series of mains with cocks of his breeding, but he was then in poor health, and died shortly afterward. Here was a mixture of several strains, all of which were different, yet they blended perfectly, and the result was, a dis-  tinct strain of jet black, yellow legged cocks, that cut out snow white. I cannot help but credit the "nick" in Mr. Moore's strain to the Kearney slip spur blinker— Eslin Red Quill blood through the Mayberry black Roundheads and the same Kearney slip spur blinker—Eslin Red Quill blood in the "Picket" cock which Col. Perkins sent to Dr. Rowley. The Whitehackle came through the John Hunter black-brass back Whitehackle hen. Mr. Moore inbred his strain for several years, and his last matings were superior to the first.

These are only a few ofthe many remarkable results of crosses that have been, made in a hap-hazard "unscientific" manner with fowl which originated with, and which were developed in an equally unscientific way by me.

Mr. Moore was discouraged with his fowl, after losing three mains to me, and he thought his fowl needed a cross. "Well, suppose they do, what sort of a cock or hen do you think would be suitable '?' ' I asked him. He didn"t know. I advised against a cross, at the same time telling him he could take his pick from any cocks I had in the coops. He selected a brown-red that had defeated him  wice; bred him to one hen, reared one brood. Among  hem were five stags and three pullets. He cut out the stags, as I advised, found them game, but inferior to his own. I suggested that he reserve one of the stags, and when two years old, mate him to his sisters, and trapnest them. He died before he bred that pen. He returned my cock after he bred to him the season I loaned him the cock.

I bred to the) same cock for three seasons, and fought him twice afterwards in mains in which his sons distinguished themselves, and his blood is in all our brown reds.

So, a cock that may prove to be a failure when bred 'o some hens, will, if bred to the right hens, prove his q uality.

The trial of stags does not always give a true line on i he quality of a cross. The experiment which was made by Mr. Moore, proved the truth of this statement.

We found that the produce from my cock did not mature early, but as cocks, they were all that could be desired.

However, if the hens to which he was bred were from an early maturing strain, the results would have been different: it has so happened in several instances.

Several years ago, William Ward Lauder, of Baltimore, who has enjoyed an enviable reputation as a consistent breeder of high-class cocks, a capable feeder, and a masler-pitter under Maryland rules, and who has been one of my most loyal friends for nearly 40 years—produced marvelous results with a cross made between a cock and two hens, of totally different blood-lines, which were bred by me.

He has always had the pick of any fowls on my yards  -a privilege which he alone, of all my friends, has enjoyed. He selected two young white legged spangle hens, which we named "Checkers" and "Domino," and a Roundhead cock, ten years old, a great winner, bearing the scars of many battles. Among them, the loss of an eye and a crooked leg. He had won his last battle, after his leg had been broken in two places, and the cast which was placed on it slipped, and when it knitted, the toes and spur were twisted out of line. I advised Mr. Lauder against breeding from him, with the hens he had selected, but as he is a strong-willed chap, with ideas of his own, I did not further interfere with his plans. He produced six stags, walked them in pens, and as he conducted a pit near Baltimore, he started fighting the stags at eight months of age. The six stags won 38 fights as stags, and twelve as cocks, and not one of them was ever defeated. Mr. Lauder had an attack of sickness which necessitated a long stay in a hospital. He wrote me to come out and get the hens and their produce, immediately, stating the reason.

The letter did not reach me for several days, and when it did, it was too late. Mr. Lauder had destroyed every chick, and sent them to a soap factory.

I have tried the same cross every year since, with cocks and hens of identically the same blood lines, but every cross has been mediocre.

All of my young chicks are hatched here at my residence. And kept in wire runs until they are a month old, when they are taken to a corner of our farm, which consists of several acres of "lake" swamp, and a pine thicket: it is the best and safest place I ever had for the purpose. I usually keep an old battle-worn cock there. The pullets are brought home when four or five months old, and only stags are left there, under the old cock in the Fall. This season I happened to have a vigorous birchen stag there in May, June and July.

One of three brown-red hens that were sent there with their broods, weaned her chicks prematurely, commenced to lay in the dense underbrush, and the most diligent search for her nest, failed to locate it. In due time she brought off her brood. They were the only chicks there that were not marked, so I let her rear them. In the brood, were three stags and three pullets, all dark brown round heads (the hens were Kirk-Costa Rica-Herrisford Irish brown red). The stags were walked on poor farms, where they had to rustle for their feed, during the early Spring, Summer and Autumn. They were brought in early in December, and sent with several other cocks to the late Patrick Clisham, a life-time friend of mine, who was one of nature's noblemen; but he never thought it worth while to tell me, or any of his friends about the performances of any fowl sent him: if they were good, it was all right; if the reverse, it was all in the game. Whenever he fought my two cocks, he would tell his friend, John W. McHale, who has done more to popularize tournaments than any man in the world, not excepting Col. McCall, and Mr. McHale would write me. All told, these two cocks won fifty battles in Clisham's pit, for sums ranging from $10 to $100 a battle, and they were never beaten.

The following Winter, after sending Mr. Clisham these cocks, I entered one of his tournaments. Among the cocks I took up, was the sire of the two phenomenal winners, and four of his sons, out of his mother.

I have never seen cocks perform more indifferently.  l' hey were defeated without any trouble by their oppon( b lits, but they made wonderfully game fights, and I refused $100 for the sire of the two winners of 25 fights each, and four that lost in the tournament, but I let him stay in the pit and die as all game cocks should, when they can110t win. A trip of 250 miles had thrown my cocks out ol' condition. I have every drop of blood on my yard, which coursed through the veins of the two great winners, for from 25 to 42 years, and I have mated cocks and hens, containing all the blood in these two cocks, but I have never been able to reproduce anything even approaching them as killers.

Had I reserved the sisters to these great cocks, and  one of their brothers to them, the strain might not have been lost to the world of cocking.

Perhaps the Kirkpatrick-Costa Rica strain, which were produced by us prior to 1890, have had more influence in the development of great fighting strains, than any fowl during the last fifty years.

I sent cocks and hens of this family, which also carried a dash of the slip spur blinker and Red Quill blood, to Fred Saunders, of Salem, Mass., and Joseph Wingate, of New Hampshire, and the crosses from them revolutionized cocking in New England and later, in the South. Saunders sold the little cock I gave him, to Frank P. Casey, of Blackstone, Mass., who bred him to his hens, and with his produce, Mr. Casey won 18 or 19 consecutive mains. W. L. Allen got some of the blood from Fred Saunders and Allen got a throw-back to the Red Quill through the Grist hens, and the result was the best winIling strain ever bred in the South up to that time.

It was a stag sired by an in-bred Kirk-Costa Rica cock out of a Lord Clonmell-bred hen, that I presented Col. John I l. Madigan, about 18 or 20 years ago, that formed the foundaI ion for his wonderfully successful strain of "Clarets" that have won more money than any fowl ever bred in this country, with the possible exception of the Duryea fowl— and that blood was in the hen I gave Col. Madigan.

She was a hen that would produce champions from any game cock to which she was mated.

The year I gave the stag, pullet and the hen, their mother, to Col. Madigan, I fed and handled a main of cocks for "Tobe" Hester, against J. A. Kidwiler. We fought at Monroe, La. Kidwiler beat us six straights out of eleven—the remaining five matches were not fought. Our cocks had been on the railroad six days and five nights, without feed or water; when landed at Monroe, they were so badly dried out that I asked Mr. Hester to pay forfeit, but he was one of the sort who would go through with any deal to which he signed his hand, and there was no use to try to convince him that giving up the forfeit under such conditions was always recognized as fulfilling a contract.

John Pohlman, of St. Louis, had an entry fn the tournament with Steve Ginn's Sons, and we had our cocks in the same building. The year before I had sent Mr. Ginn three stags, sired by a Picket cock, out of the hen I gave Col. Madigan. Mr. Ginn did not like the lowstationed stags, and did not breed to them, but put them on good walks. He died in the meantime, but his sons knew the cocks, and sent them to me, to Monroe, along with their cocks, to John Pohlman. As my cocks did not arrive until six days later, I asked Pohlman to feed them along with his entry, which he did. These three cocks would have fought the first three weights in the Kidwiler main, but Hester would not let me put them in. He said: "I'm advertising that I fight the kind of cocks I sell, and sell the kind of cocks I fight, and to substitute these Whitehackles for my cocks, would be as unfair to me as it would be to my customers." Good old Hester—The world needs a lot of his kind!

Boyd and Latimore won the tournament. I went to Boyd and offered to fight him three cocks for $100—best two out of three. He said: "Andy, they're fighting here for as much as $500 a battle, and I want to get all of it I can, but if these small cocks are not matched, I'll fight you for $100 a battle."

Col. Madigan heard the conversation, and as he had lost $2,000 to Lunday, backing my cocks against Kidwiler, he asked: "What sort of cocks have you '?' '

I told him. He said, "Go ahead and match him," which I did. The first cock at 4:11, the second at 4:14 and the third at 5:2.

John Pohlman pitted them. Money went up in bundles, with Boyd the favorite.

I have seldom, if ever, seen cocks win under more grief than these three cocks suffered, and to say that they were dead when the heels were cut off by Nick Ramsey, tells the whole story.

I think Col. Madigan got back most of his money. I asked him if he would accept the mother of these cocks. 1 1 0 would, and I shipped her, with her son and daughters, which were sired by a "Kirk" stag, that had won as a cock in a Montgomery tournament, in a battle against a I Jowell Pyle, pitted by Arthur Wright, of Knoxville, Tenn., i l l a battle which lasted nearly five hours.

The Kirk-Costa Rica-Red Quill-Kearney family were in every way truly remarkable, and the Costa Rica hen was the dominant influence from the first year to the present day. She was one of a trio which was presented 10 Capt. Oyster, U. S. A., while he was on a mission for  government, to Costa Rica, by a Persian gentleman, who was on a similar mission for his government, to that country. In color, she was jet black, with yellow legs, a lid a pea comb. She weighed about two and one-half pounds, but on account of her heavy plumage, she looked much larger.

Capt. Oyster sent them to his brother, D. W., who resided in Washington, D. C. Mr. Oyster did not want I hem, because they were too small to match. He gave I liern to Mr. Columbus Eslin, who bred her to a great cock ol' his own, and asked me to put her, with her brood at one of the barns, at the Soldiers' Home, Washington. When she weaned her brood, I got a brood from her, by  he Kirkpatrick stag, and returned her to Mr. Eslin, and crossed her produce with the Kearney-Eslin (Black and Tans) but the produce were always Kirk-Costa Rica in  conformation and action, and their gameness was inexhaustible.

Our most satisfactory cross from them was with the ill bred Lord Clonmell-Duryea hens, and to this mating, may be credited the wonderful Clarets developed by Henry Deans (Hank) and Col. Madigan.

This season, Col. Madigan sent me a marvelously beauI il'lll white-legged Claret cock; a blinker, winner of four lights in mains and tournaments, and a successful sire.

I bred him to a hen that I thought would suit him: her produce were a variety of colors when hatched. I then bred him to a "Kirk" hen. She layed 11 eggs, sit on I hem, and brought forth eleven chicks, which were exactly like all the "Kirks" from this line we have ever bred. They were a sturdy flock, and when two weeks old, they wanted to roost on the top branches of the highest pine I rees on our farm.

Every present indication points to a complete reverHion to the Kirk-Costa Rica, which were long, hard feathored, hard, wiry-fleshed nervous cocks, and for many years, we thought them one of the best pit families we ever bred, hilt as they were very small, we bred only one or two broods of them each year.

So, about crossing, I have no advice to offer, except, get the best fighting game fowl you can, breed them carefully, by single mating, select what you consider the best types, and in-breed brother and sister.

Walk a few stags on some distant soil and different climate from your own, and when matured, bring them home and mate them with their sisters the first year.

If they are perfectly sound physically, there will be no danger of deterioration during the average life-time of the breeder. While many of the greatest fighters I ever bred, or ever saw, were so bred, and many of them were sired by battle-worn cocks, and out of old hens, I would advise against following that system.

The strain which we made from the "Hermit" stag, (whose pedigree will be found in another chapter) and the John Hunter hen, proved that the strain, while never in a class with our Black and Tans, outlasted them, for the reason that the "Hermit" had then not been injured in battle, as he was later in his useful life.

I think the "Pickets" are today, after over forty years of the most intense in-breeding, better than they ever were, and it must be remembered that there is only the blood of one hen in this family, and that one, the John Hunter hen.

She has been the dominant influence in the production of color, which is evidenced by the fact that I can mate cocks and hens from this strain, which show a tendency to revert to her, and within four or five years, produce 90% black brass-back Whitehackle cocks. I have no objection to the color, but I do object to their confirmation, which, while it was all right for the in-bred Hunter family, the crosses would eventually inherit all the weak points of the strain, and few, if any of its good points. By adhering to the Kearney-Eslin type of the Hermit cock, which has been easy to do, I have been able l to perpetuate them, and retain their chief characteristics, and they are the cleanest hitting, most careful single stroke cocks I ever bred.

Some ten or twelve years after loaning me the stag, Mr. Kirkpatrick joined Arthur B. Suit in a main against me, which we fought near Norfolk, Va., Mr. Kirk furnished several cocks, of his own breeding, which were descended from the last cock of his in-bred strain, over Goss Counterfeit hens. I don't remember whether he bred them, or whether they were bred by Suit. The cross had attracted considerable favorable attention, none of which I had seen fought before I met them in the pit in Norfolk.

I defeated them all. They were game enough, but poor judges of distance, and there was too much wastemotion. I fought two little, in-bred Costa Rica cocks in the main, one at 4:4 against a 4: 8, and a 4:5 against a 4:10.

They both won on their merits.

Mr. Kirk asked me their breeding. I told him. He recognized the "Kirk" in their fighting. While he had • i old me many years before that he advocated in-breeding, his views had undergone a radical change. I knew from his conversation that, since he moved to Washington, he had absorbed many of the Eslin ideas, one of which was, that Roundhead cocks could not be in-bred for any great length of time, and he advised me to cross them with some larger straight-comb strain.

I had met Wm. L. Morgan a great many times, and we corresponded for many years. He too, was of the opinion that Roundhead fowl required frequent crossing with straight comb strains. Some years later, Edward llanna, a famous race horse trainer and cocker, who was an intimate friend of Michael Kearney, related a conversation which he had with Mr. Kearney, in connection with breeding, the crux of it was, the Duryea Roundheads required frequent crossing with his straight comb fowl, to keep up their quality.

I did not believe the story. I know Major Carson and Mr. Duryea were intimate friends, and I related the Hanna story to him, and asked the Major to casually and diplomatically, inquire of Mr. Duryea, just how his cocks were bred. He did so, and the following letter was his reply.

Hickory Valley, Tenn.

Dear Major Carson: January 7, 1914.

I am sorry that I cannot get interested in race horses here; but the ones I have in France, take all my time.

In fact, I find, year by year, that I can't give half enough to the development of this place. It's about the only section in this county that I know of, that really seems to be on the boom. I would willingly think of your yearlings, if I could race them in France, but they are ineligible, and I have 30,000 acres here, where I think I can raise as good horses as you can in Kentucky. I know, and have proved that we can raise as good cattle as I have ever seen, and I have never seen better horses and mules [or their class.

If I were racing in this country, I should breed here. I am awfully sorry to hear what you write me about selling your place.

I didn't let Vanderbilt have my cocks last year, but backed a main made by a man named Hatch and Kearney fought the cocks—all full brothers, and the same year. I didn't see it, but they all tell me it was the best main I have had in ten years. I got Kearney to send his son over with the cocks that didn't fall in, and with some cocks I bred in France, we fought some matches there—not a main. We licked them straight fights until they stopped betting and then experimented in heeling and giving weight.

They are past-masters in heeling cocks, but know nothing about game fowl. However, they are a bright race and caught on quickly.

They know nothing of condition or weight, and think nothing of giving away a pound: but their system of heeling, if you let them use their own heels, is most ingenious and deadly.

They all think if we fought a main with my cocks in fix, and let them heel them, that they would win 80% of their fights and want me to go in for a big main, but gentlemen in France don't fight cocks, and there is quite a sentiment against it and I shall only fight a few for fun. Mr. Bird is right in a way—about 30 years ago, I got the original hens I now have from Charles Coolidge, and after I fought my first big main with John Hunter, I crossed one of them with a brown red cock I got from Kearney that fought in that main. That must be 28 years ago, and from that day to this, there has been no outcross— simply a matter of the most minute and careful selection. Nothing that we didn't think was absolutely first class ever stayed on a walk or breeding farm, and consequently, hundreds got the axe, both males and females. The Belgian cocks are all dunghills.

With kind regards to Mrs. Carson and the family, believe me, 

Very sincerely,

H. B. DURYEA.

 This letter was written by Mr. Duryea, with his own hand. While I did not like Mr. Duryea, I can pay his memory this compliment—he was absolutely truthful, born a gentleman, educated at Harvard University. As a breeder of bird dogs and race horses, he was the equal of any man that ever lived; as a breeder of game fowl, he was in a class alone.

 He developed one strain, and never bred any others, and during his entire cocking life, he lost but one main, and that to John Hoy, when Kearney wanted to pay forfeit, due to a stable of sick cocks.

I consider Mr. Duryea's letter the most valuable contribution to game fowl literature that ever appeared in print.