The History of the Hen Fever. A Humorous Record

In Short

This book documents the "Hen Fever," a bizarre speculative mania that swept the United States and England between 1849 and 1855. It traces the rise of extravagant, high-priced poultry trading, where common fowls were rebranded with exotic names and sold to desperate amateurs for exorbitant sums. Written by a central, gleeful participant, the narrative serves as both a confession and a guide to the era’s marketing tricks. Its enduring value lies in its honest, humorous dissection of mass hysteria, demonstrating how quickly public interest can be manipulated through relentless publicity and artful puffery.

The Story

The "fever" begins in 1849 at the author’s Roxbury, Massachusetts home. What starts as a private interest in fancy poultry quickly transforms into an obsession for the public. The author, an astute observer of human nature and a master of the printing press, discovers that the public is not merely looking for chickens; they are looking for wonders. By importing specific, large-bodied breeds—the Shanghaes and Cochin-Chinas—he creates a market where scarcity and prestige become the primary drivers of value. He documents his own ascent as a premier breeder, noting how simple grey fowls, when marketed with the right pedigree and artistic illustrations, command prices that shock even the most seasoned farmers.

The narrative arc follows the rapid inflation of these prices. Initially, a pair of fowls might sell for a modest sum, but as the craze intensifies, buyers are soon paying fifty, one hundred, or even one hundred and fifty dollars for a single pair of birds. The author is never a passive observer; he actively cultivates this demand. He spends hundreds of dollars on fine engravings and glowing descriptions for newspapers, ensuring his stock is perceived as the gold standard. He observes, with a mixture of amusement and cynicism, how the mania extends to England, where even royalty is drawn into the fray. He recounts the creation of "bubbles," such as the invented "Bother'em" breed, proving that the name and the story are far more important to the buyer than the actual physical attributes of the bird.

As the years pass, the market reaches a fever pitch, characterized by grand poultry shows that are more about spectacle than agriculture. The author describes these events—often orchestrated by P.T. Barnum—as "dodges" designed to fill museum halls and generate publicity. He details the lengths to which breeders go to win, from using pincers and shears to reshape tails to using gums and dyes to alter plumage. Yet, he maintains a detached, good-natured tone throughout. He does not hide his own role in these deceptions, nor does he apologize for the profit he earned.

The ending is a slow, inevitable cooling of the fever. By 1854, the market is saturated. The public, finally realizing that their expensive birds are, in fact, just chickens, begins to lose interest. The author watches the "death-rattle" of the mania with a clear eye, comparing it to previous speculative bubbles like the tulip trade. He concludes his history by staging a mock funeral procession for the defunct New England Hen Society, a final, biting piece of theater that cements his role as the era’s most unapologetic survivor.

How It Unfolds

The inception of the mania The author describes the first symptoms of the fever in his own yard, noting how quickly a quiet hobby became a public obsession. He highlights how the simple act of importing and displaying exotic-looking birds transformed them into objects of intense desire.

The art of the puff The narrative turns to the role of the press, where the author details the significant investment he made in drawings and advertisements. He explains that by controlling the narrative, he could convince "the people" that his specific stock was essential for any serious breeder.

The invention of bubbles The author recounts the creation of fake breeds like the "Bother'ems," demonstrating how easily names could be manufactured to inflate prices. He shows how the lack of expert knowledge among the public allowed him and his peers to sell common stock as rare, imported wonders.

The peak of the spectacle The focus shifts to the grand poultry shows in New York and Boston, which he portrays as theatrical performances rather than agricultural fairs. He reveals the tricks used to alter the birds' appearances to meet the arbitrary standards of the day.

The final decline The book concludes with the inevitable collapse of the speculative market. The author observes the cooling of public interest and the quiet realization of the buyers, wrapping up the history with a satirical funeral for the phenomenon he helped lead.

The People

The author, Geo. P. Burnham, stands at the center of the narrative. He is a man of significant business acumen and, by his own admission, a master of self-promotion. He wants to be known as the most successful breeder in the country, and he is largely unencumbered by traditional notions of modesty. He views the entire affair as a game of wits, where the cleverest marketer wins.

Asa Rugg, an early associate in the trade, represents the archetype of the "insinuating" dealer. He knows exactly how to make a buyer feel privileged to pay a high price for common stock, using a delicate, pseudo-reluctant style of negotiation that Burnham respects and learns from.

P.T. Barnum appears as the ultimate orchestrator of the frenzy. He represents the transition of the hen trade from a rural interest to an urban spectacle. For Barnum, the chickens are merely tools to populate his museum, and he possesses the boldness to turn any farce into a successful commercial endeavor.

The "competitors" are the villains of Burnham’s story. They are men who try to enter the trade without the necessary "graces" or knowledge. Burnham views them with a mixture of contempt and amusement, particularly those who try to "head" him in business by buying inferior birds, only to lose thousands of dollars in the attempt to outpace him.

In Its Own Voice

The author highlights the absurdity of the claims made during the peak of the trading frenzy.

"The pair he first sent me were light-grey and streaked, and 'at less than seven months old weighed over nineteen pounds.'"

This description, relayed from a dealer, emphasizes the exaggerated, almost impossible statistics that were used to justify the high prices of the imported birds.

The author also reflects on the influence of the press and the sheer volume of correspondence he received during the height of the craze.

"The expenses attendant upon this part of the business, to wit, the process of furnishing the requisite amount of information for 'the people' ... can be imagined, not described."

This admission highlights the calculated nature of the "information" he and others provided to the public, which was designed purely to drive sales.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this is a study of speculative bubbles. The author explores how easily a society can be convinced of the inherent value of a commodity when that value is backed by prestige, expert-sounding terminology, and pervasive media coverage. The "hen" is merely a placeholder; the book could just as easily be about tulips, land, or any other asset where the price is divorced from utility. The underlying question is how much of human economic behavior is driven by the desire to be part of a "fever" rather than by the actual quality of the product. It is a cynical but deeply observant argument about the power of the press and the susceptibility of the public to carefully curated narratives of scarcity and status.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate dry, Victorian-era wit and have an interest in the history of consumer culture will find this book fascinating. It feels like a precursor to modern exposés of marketing hype, written with the confidence of someone who knows all the tricks because he invented them. There is a specific, wry pleasure in reading the author’s candid admissions of his own "puffing" and his disdain for the "old fogies" who failed to understand the game.

The book is not without its challenges. The language reflects the mid-19th-century American style, complete with occasional dialect, long-winded sentences, and a heavy reliance on the reader being familiar with the specific cultural touchstones of the 1850s. The author’s attitudes are firmly rooted in his time, and he does not shy away from expressing his prejudices or his complete lack of empathy for those who lost money in his ventures. However, those who look past the outdated delivery will find a timeless, sharp-eyed analysis of how fads are born, how they are managed, and how they inevitably collapse when the reality of the commodity can no longer sustain the weight of the story told about it. It remains a uniquely honest record of human folly.