that the several kinds breed truly even in colour. They assert, but, as we shall see, on very weak grounds, that most of the breeds are extremely ancient. They are strongly impressed with the great difference between the chief kinds, and they ask with force, can differences in climate, food, or treatment have produced birds so different as the black stately Spanish, the diminutive elegant Bantam, the heavy Cochin with its many peculiarities, and the Polish fowl with its great top-knot and protuberant skull? But fanciers, whilst admitting and even overrating the effects of crossing the various breeds, do not sufficiently regard the probability of the occasional birth, during the course of centuries, of birds with abnormal and hereditary peculiarities; they overlook the effects of correlation of growth—of the long-continued use and disuse of parts, and of some direct result from changed food and climate, though on this latter head I have found no sufficient evidence; and lastly, they all, as far as I know, entirely overlook the all-important subject of unconscious or unmethodical selection, though they are well aware that their birds differ individually and that by selecting the best birds for a few generations they can improve their stocks.
An amateur writes[8] as follows: “The fact that poultry have until lately received but little attention at the hands of the fancier, and been entirely confined to the domains of the producer for the market, would alone suggest the improbability of that constant and unremitting attention having been observed in breeding, which is requisite to the consummating in the offspring of any two birds transmittable forms not exhibited by the parents.” This at first sight appears true. But in a future chapter on Selection, abundant facts will be given showing not only that careful breeding, but that actual selection was practised during ancient periods, and by barely civilised races of man. In the case of the fowl I can adduce no direct facts showing that selection was anciently practised; but the Romans at the commencement of the Christian era kept six or seven breeds, and Columella “particularly recommends as the best, those sorts that have five toes and white ears.”[9] In the fifteenth century several breeds were known and described in Europe; and in China, at nearly the same period, seven kinds were named. A more striking case is that at present, in one of the Philippine Islands, the semi-barbarous inhabitants have distinct native names for no less than nine sub-breeds of the Game fowl.[10] Azara,[11] who wrote towards the close of the last century, states that in the interior parts of South America, where I should not have expected that the least care would have been taken of poultry, a black-skinned and black-boned breed is kept, from being considered fertile and its flesh good for sick persons. Now every one who has kept poultry knows how impossible it is to keep several breeds distinct unless the utmost care be taken in separating the sexes. Will it then be pretended that those persons who, in ancient times and in semi-civilised countries took pains to keep the breeds distinct, and who therefore valued them, would not occasionally have destroyed inferior birds and occasionally have preserved their best birds? This is all that is required. It is not pretended that any one in ancient times intended to form a new breed, or to modify an old breed according to some ideal standard of excellence. He who cared for poultry would merely wish to obtain, and afterwards to rear, the best birds which he could; but this occasional preservation of the best birds would in the course of time modify the breed, as surely, though by no means as rapidly, as does methodical selection at the present day, If one person out of a hundred or out of a thousand attended to the breeding of his birds, this would be sufficient; for the birds thus tended would soon become superior to others, and would form a new strain; and this strain would, as explained in the last chapter, slowly have its characteristic differences augmented, and at last be converted into a new sub-breed or breed. But breeds would often be for a time neglected and would deteriorate; they would, however, partially retain their character, and afterwards might again come into fashion and be raised to a standard of perfection higher than their former standard; as has actually occurred quite recently with Polish fowls. If, however, a breed were utterly neglected, it would become extinct, as has recently happened with one of the Polish sub-breeds. Whenever in the course of past centuries a bird appeared with some slight abnormal structure, such as with a lark-like crest on its head, it would probably often have been preserved from that love of novelty which leads some persons in England to keep rumpless fowls, and others in India to keep frizzled fowls. And after a time any such abnormal appearance would be carefully preserved, from being esteemed a sign of the purity and excellence of the breed; for on this principle the Romans eighteen centuries ago valued the fifth toe and the white ear-lobe in their fowls.
Thus from the occasional appearance of abnormal characters, though at first only slight in degree; from the effects of the use and the disuse of parts; possibly from the direct effects of changed climate and food; from correlation of growth; from occasional reversions to old and long-lost characters; from the crossing of breeds, when more than one had been formed; but, above all, from unconscious selection carried on during many generations, there is no insuperable difficulty, to the best of my judgment, in believing that all the breeds have descended from some one parent-source. Can any single species be named from which we may reasonably suppose that all are descended? The Gallus bankiva apparently fulfils every requirement. I have already given as fair an account as I could of the arguments in favour of the multiple origin of the several breeds; and now I will give those in favour of their common descent from _G. bankiva._ But it will be convenient first briefly to describe all the known species of Gallus. The _G. sonneratii_ does not range into the northern parts of India; according to Colonel Sykes,[12] it presents at different heights of the Ghauts, two strongly marked varieties, perhaps deserving to be called species. It was at one time thought to be the primitive stock of all our domestic breeds, and this shows that it closely approaches the common fowl in general structure; but its hackles partially consist of highly peculiar, horny laminæ, transversely banded with three colours; and I have met no authentic account of any such character having been observed in any domestic breed.[13] This species also differs greatly from the common fowl, in the comb being finely serrated, and in the loins being destitute of true hackles. Its voice is utterly different. It crosses readily in India with domestic hens; and Mr. Blyth[14] raised nearly 100 hybrid chickens; but they were tender and mostly died whilst young. Those which were reared were absolutely sterile when crossed inter se or with either parent. At the Zoological Gardens, however, some ‘hybrids of the same parentage were not quite so sterile: Mr. Dixon, as he informed me, made, with Mr. Yarrell’s aid, particular inquiries on this subject, and was assured that out of 50 eggs only five or six chickens were reared. Some, however, of these half-bred birds were crossed with one of their parents, namely, a Bantam, and produced a few extremely feeble chickens. Mr. Dixon also procured some of these same birds and crossed them in several ways, but all were more or less infertile. Nearly similar experiments have recently been tried on a great scale in the Zoological Gardens with almost the same result.[15] Out of 500 eggs, raised from various first crosses and hybrids, between _G. sonneratii, bankiva,_ and _varius,_ only 12 chickens were reared, and of these only three were the product of hybrids _inter se._ From these facts, and from the above-mentioned strongly-marked differences in structure between the domestic fowl and _G. sonneratii,_ we may reject this latter species as the parent of any domestic breed.
Ceylon possesses a fowl peculiar to the island, viz. _G.
stanleyii_; this species approaches so closely (except in the colouring of the comb) to the domestic fowl, that Messrs. Layard and Kellaert[16] would have considered it, as they inform me, as one of the parent-stocks, had it not been for its singularly different voice. This bird, like the last, crosses readily with tame hens, and even visits solitary farms and ravishes them. Two hybrids, a male and female, thus produced, were found by Mr.
Mitford to be quite sterile: both inherited the peculiar voice of _G. stanleyii._ This species, then, may in all probability be rejected as one of the primitive stocks of the domestic fowl.
Java and the islands eastward as far as Flores are inhabited by _G.
varius_ (or _furcatus_), which differs in so many characters—green plumage, unserrated comb, and single median wattle—that no one supposes it to have been the parent of any one of our breeds; yet, as I am informed by Mr. Crawfurd,[17] hybrids are commonly raised between the male _G. varius_ and the common hen, and are kept for their great beauty, but are invariably sterile: this, however, was not the case with some bred in the Zoological Gardens. These hybrids were at one time thought to be specifically distinct, and were named _G. æneus._ Mr. Blyth and others believe that the _G.
temminckii_[18] (of which the history is not known) is a similar hybrid. Sir J. Brooke sent me some skins of domestic fowls from Borneo, and across the tail of one of these, as Mr. Tegetmeier observed, there were transverse blue bands like those which he had seen on the tail-feathers of hybrids from _G. varius,_ reared in the Zoological Gardens. This fact apparently indicates that some of the fowls of Borneo have been slightly affected by crosses with _G.
varius,_ but the case may possibly be one of analogous variation. I may just allude to the _G. giganteus,_ so often referred to in works on poultry as a wild species; but Marsden[19] the first describer, speaks of it as a tame breed; and the specimen in the British Museum evidently has the aspect of a domestic variety.
The last species to be mentioned, namely, _Gallus bankiva,_ has a much wider geographical range than the three previous species; it inhabits Northern India as far west as Sinde, and ascends the Himalaya to a height of 4000 ft.; it inhabits Burmah, the Malay peninsula, the Indo-Chinese countries, the Philippine Islands, and the Malayan archipelago as far eastward as Timor. This species varies considerably in the wild state. Mr. Blyth informs me that the specimens, both male and female, brought from near the Himalaya, are rather paler coloured than those from other parts of India; whilst those from the Malay peninsula and Java are brighter coloured than the Indian birds. I have seen specimens from these countries, and the difference of tint in the hackles was conspicuous. The Malayan hens were a shade redder on the breast and neck than the Indian hens. The Malayan males generally had a red ear-lappet, instead of a white one as in India; but Mr. Blyth has seen one Indian specimen without the white ear-lappet. The legs are leaden blue in the Indian, whereas they show some tendency to be yellowish in the Malayan and Javan specimens. In the former Mr.
Blyth finds the tarsus remarkably variable in length. According to Temminck[20] the Timor specimens differ as a local race from that of Java. These several wild varieties have not as yet been ranked as distinct species; if they should, as is not unlikely, be hereafter thus ranked, the circumstance would be quite immaterial as far as the parentage and differences of our domestic breeds are concerned. The wild _G. bankiva_ agrees most closely with the black-breasted red Game-breed, in colouring and in all other respects, except in being smaller, and in the tail being carried more horizontally. But the manner in which the tail is carried is highly variable in many of our breeds, for, as Mr. Brent informs me, the tail slopes much in the Malays, is erect in the Games and some other breeds, and is more than erect in Dorkings, Bantams, etc. There is one other difference namely, that in _G. bankiva,_ according to Mr. Blyth, the neck-hackles when first moulted are replaced during two or three months not by other hackles, as with our domestic poultry, but by short blackish feathers.[21] Mr.
Brent, however, has remarked that these black feathers remain in the wild bird after the development of the lower hackles, and appear in the domestic bird at the same time with them: so that the only difference is that the lower hackles are replaced more slowly in the wild than in the tame bird; but as confinement is known sometimes to affect the masculine plumage, this slight difference cannot be considered of any importance. It is a significant fact that the voice of both the male and female _G. bankiva_ closely resembles, as Mr. Blyth and others have noted, the voice of both sexes of the common domestic fowl; but the last note of the crow of the wild bird is rather less prolonged. Captain Hutton, well known for his researches into the natural history of India, informs me that he has seen several crossed fowls from the wild species and the Chinese bantam; these crossed fowls _bred freely_ with bantams, but unfortunately were not crossed _inter se._ Captain Hutton reared chickens from the eggs of the _Gallus bankiva_; and these, though at first very wild, afterwards became so tame that they would crowd round his feet. He did not succeed in rearing them to maturity; but as he remarks, “no wild gallinaceous bird thrives well at first on hard grain.” Mr. Blyth also found much difficulty in keeping _G. bankiva_ in confinement. In the Philippine Islands, however, the natives must succeed better, as they keep wild cocks to fight with their domestic game-birds.[22] Sir Walter Elliot informs me that the hen of a native domestic breed of Pegu is undistinguishable from the hen of the wild _G. bankiva_; and the natives constantly catch wild cocks by taking tame cocks to fight with them in the woods.[23] Mr. Crawfurd remarks that from etymology it might be argued that the fowl was first domesticated by the Malays and Javanese.[24] It is also a curious fact, of which I have been assured by Mr. Blyth, that wild specimens of the _ Gallus bankiva,_ brought from the countries east of the Bay of Bengal, are far more easily tamed than those of India; nor is this an unparalleled fact, for, as Humboldt long ago remarked, the same species sometimes evinces a more tameable disposition in one country than in another. If we suppose that the _G. bankiva_ was first tamed in Malaya and afterwards imported into India, we can understand an observation made to me by Mr. Blyth, that the domestic fowls of India do not resemble the wild _G. bankiva_ of India more closely than do those of Europe.
From the extremely close resemblance in colour, general structure, and especially in voice, between _Gallus bankiva_ and the Game fowl; from their fertility, as far as this has been ascertained, when crossed; from the possibility of the wild species being tamed, and from its varying in the wild state, we may confidently look at it as the parent of the most typical of all the domestic breeds, namely, the Game fowl. It is a significant fact, that almost all the naturalists in India, namely Sir W. Elliot, Mr. S. N. Ward, Mr.
Layard, Mr. J. C. Jerdon, and Mr. Blyth,[25] who are familiar with G. bankiva, believe that it is the parent of most or all our domestic breeds. But even if it be admitted that G. bankiva is the parent of the Game breed, yet it may be urged that other wild species have been the parents of the other domestic breeds; and that these species still exist, though unknown, in some country, or have become extinct. The extinction, however, of several species of fowls, is an improbable hypothesis, seeing that the four known species have not become extinct in the most ancient and thickly peopled regions of the East. There is, in fact, not one other kind of domesticated bird, of which the wild parent-form is unknown, that is become extinct. For the discovery of new, or the rediscovery of old species of Gallus, we must not look, as fanciers often look, to the whole world. The larger gallinaceous birds, as Mr. Blyth has remarked,[26] generally have a restricted range: we see this well illustrated in India, where the genus Gallus inhabits the base of the Himalaya, and is succeeded higher up by Gallophasis, and still higher up by Phasianus. Australia, with its islands, is out of the question as the home for unknown species of the genus. It is, also, as improbable that Gallus should inhabit South America[27] as that a humming-bird should be found in the Old World. From the character of the other gallinaceous birds of Africa, it is not probable that Gallus is an African genus. We need not look to the western parts of Asia, for Messrs. Blyth and Crawfurd, who have attended to this subject, doubt whether Gallus ever existed in a wild state even as far west as Persia. Although the earliest Greek writers speak of the fowl as a Persian bird, this probably merely indicates its line of importation. For the discovery of unknown species we must look to India, to the Indo-Chinese countries, and to the northern parts of the Malay Archipelago. The southern portion of China is the most likely country; but as Mr. Blyth informs me, skins have been exported from China during a long period, and living birds are largely kept there in aviaries, so that any native species of Gallus would probably have become known. Mr. Birch, of the British Museum, has translated for me passages from a Chinese Encyclopædia published in 1609, but compiled from more ancient documents, in which it is said that fowls are creatures of the West, and were introduced into the East (_i.e._ China) in a dynasty 1400 B.C. Whatever may be thought of so ancient a date, we see that the Indo-Chinese and Indian regions were formerly considered by the Chinese as the source of the domestic fowl. From these several considerations we must look to the present metropolis of the genus, namely, to the south-eastern parts of Asia, for the discovery of species which were formerly domesticated, but are now unknown in the wild state; and the most experienced ornithologists do not consider it probable that such species will be discovered.
In considering whether the domestic breeds are descended from one species, namely, _G. bankiva,_ or from several, we must not quite overlook, though we must not exaggerate, the importance of the test of fertility. Most of our domestic breeds have been so often crossed, and their mongrels so largely kept, that it is almost certain, if any degree of infertility had existed between them, it would have been detected. On the other hand, the four known species of Gallus when crossed with each other, or when crossed, with the exception of _G.
bankiva,_ with the domestic fowl, produce infertile hybrids.
Finally, we have not such good evidence with fowls as with pigeons, of all the breeds having descended from a single primitive stock. In both cases the argument of fertility must go for something; in both we have the improbability of man having succeeded in ancient times in thoroughly domesticating several supposed species,—most of these supposed species being extremely abnormal as compared with their natural allies,—all being now either unknown or extinct, though the parent-form of no other domesticated bird has been lost. But in searching for the supposed parent-stocks of the various breeds of the pigeon, we were enabled to confine our search to species having peculiar habits of life; whilst with fowls there is nothing in their habits in any marked manner distinct from those of other gallinaceous birds. In the case of pigeons, I have shown that purely-bred birds of every race and the crossed offspring of distinct races frequently resemble, or revert to, the wild rock-pigeon in general colour and in each characteristic mark. With fowls we have facts of a similar nature, but less strongly pronounced, which we will now discuss.
_Reversion and Analogous Variation._—Purely-bred Game, Malay, Cochin, Dorking, Bantam, and, as I hear from Mr. Tegetmeier, Silk fowls, may frequently or occasionally be met with, which are almost identical in plumage with the wild _G. bankiva._ This is a fact well deserving attention, when we reflect that these breeds rank amongst the most distinct. Fowls thus coloured are called by amateurs black-breasted reds. Hamburghs properly have a very different plumage; nevertheless, as Mr. Tegetmeier informs me, “the great difficulty in breeding cocks of the golden-spangled variety is their tendency to have black breasts and red backs. The males of white Bantams and white Cochins, as they come to maturity, often assume a yellowish or saffron tinge; and the longer neck hackles of black Bantam cocks,”[28] when two or three years old, not uncommonly become ruddy; these latter Bantams occasionally “even moult brassy-winged, or actually red-shouldered.” So that in these several cases we see a plain tendency to reversion to the hues of _G. bankiva,_ even during the lifetime of the individual bird. With Spanish, Polish, pencilled Hamburgh, silver-spangled Hamburgh fowls, and with some other less common breeds, I have never heard of a black-breasted red bird having appeared.
From my experience with pigeons, I made the following crosses. I first killed all my own poultry, no others living near my house, and then procured, by Mr. Tegetmeier’s assistance, a first-rate black Spanish cock, and hens of the following pure breeds,—white Game, white Cochin, Hamburgh, and white Silk. In none of these breeds is there a trace of red, nor when kept pure have I ever heard of the appearance of a red feather; though such an occurrence would perhaps not be very improbable with white Games and white Cochins. Of the many chickens reared from the above six crosses the majority were black, both in the down and in the first plumage; some were white, and a very few were mottled black and white. In one lot of eleven mixed eggs from the white Game and white Cochin by the black Spanish cock, seven of the chickens were white, and only four black. I mention this fact to show that whiteness of plumage is strongly inherited, and that the belief in the prepotent power in the male to transmit his colour is not always correct. The chickens were hatched in the spring, and in the latter part of August several of the young cocks began to exhibit a change, which with some of them increased during the following years. Thus a young male bird from the silver-spangled Polish hen was in its first plumage coal-black, and combined in its comb, crest, wattle, and beard, the characters of both parents; but when two years old the secondary wing-feathers became largely and symmetrically marked with white, and, wherever in _G. bankiva_ the hackles are red, they were in this bird greenish-black along the shaft, narrowly bordered with brownish-black, and this again broadly bordered with very pale yellowish-brown; so that in general appearance the plumage had become pale-coloured instead of black. In this case, with advancing age there was a great change, but no reversion to the red colour of _G. bankiva._ A cock with a regular rose comb derived either from the spangled or pencilled silver Hamburgh was likewise at first quite black; but in less than a year the neck-hackles, as in the last case, became whitish, whilst those on the loins assumed a decided reddish-yellow tint; and here we see the first symptom of reversion; this likewise occurred with some other young cocks, which need not here be described. It has also been recorded[29] by a breeder, that he crossed two silver-pencilled Hamburgh hens with a Spanish cock, and reared a number of chickens, all of which were black, the cocks having _ golden_ and the hens brownish hackles; so that in this instance likewise there was a clear tendency to reversion.
Two young cocks from my white Game hen were at first snow white; of these, one subsequently assumed male orange-coloured hackles, chiefly on the loins, and the other an abundance of fine orange-red hackles on the neck, loins, and upper wing-coverts. Here again we have a more decided, though partial, reversion to the colours of _G. bankiva._ This second cock was in fact coloured like an inferior “pile Came cock;”—now this sub-breed can be produced, as I am informed by Mr. Tegetmeier, by crossing a black-breasted red Game cock with a white Game hen, and the “pile” sub-breed thus produced can afterwards be truly propagated. So that we have the curious fact of the glossy-black Spanish cock and the black-breasted red Game cock when crossed with white Game hens producing offspring of nearly the same colours.
I reared several birds from the white Silk hen by the Spanish cock: all were coal-black, and all plainly showed their parentage in having blackish combs and bones; none inherited the so-called silky feathers, and the non-inheritance of this character has been observed by others.
The hens never varied in their plumage. As the young cocks grew old, one of them assumed yellowish-white hackles, and thus resembled in a considerable degree the cross from the Hamburgh hen; the other became a gorgeous bird, so much so that an acquaintance had it preserved and stuffed simply from its beauty. When stalking about it closely resembled the wild _Gallus bankiva,_ but with the red feathers rather darker. On close comparison one considerable difference presented itself, namely, that the primary and secondary wing-feathers were edged with greenish-black, instead of being edged, as in _G. bankiva,_ with fulvous and red tints. The space, also, across the back, which bears dark-green feathers, was broader, and the comb was blackish. In all other respects, even in trifling details of plumage, there was the closest accordance. Altogether it was a marvellous sight to compare this bird first with _G. bankiva,_ and then with its father, the glossy green-black Spanish cock, and with its diminutive mother, the white Silk hen. This case of reversion is the more extraordinary as the Spanish breed has long been known to breed true, and no instance is on record of its throwing a single red feather. The Silk hen likewise breeds true, and is believed to be ancient, for Aldrovandi, before 1600, alludes probably to this breed, and described it as covered with wool. It is so peculiar in many characters that some writers have considered it as specifically distinct; yet, as we now see, when crossed with the Spanish fowl, it yields offspring closely resembling the wild _G. bankiva._ Mr. Tegetmeier has been so kind as to repeat, at my request, the cross between a Spanish cock and Silk hen, and he obtained similar results; for he thus raised, besides a black hen, seven cocks, all of which were dark-bodied with more or less orange-red hackles. In the ensuing year he paired the black hen with one of her brothers, and raised three young cocks, all coloured like their father, and a black hen mottled with white.
The hens from the six above-described crosses showed hardly any tendency to revert to the mottled-brown plumage of the female _G.
bankiva_: one hen, however, from the white Cochin, which was at first coal-black, became slightly brown or sooty. Several hens, which were for a long time snow-white, acquired as they grew old a few black feathers. A hen from the white Game, which was for a long time entirely black glossed with green, when two years old had some of the primary wing feathers greyish-white, and a multitude of feathers over her body narrowly and symmetrically tipped or laced with white. I had expected that some of the chickens whilst covered with down would have assumed the longitudinal stripes so general with gallinaceous birds; but this did not occur in a single instance. Two or three alone were reddish-brown about their heads. I was unfortunate in losing nearly all the white chickens from the first crosses; so that black prevailed with the grandchildren; but they were much diversified in colour, some being sooty, others mottled, and one blackish chicken had its feathers oddly tipped and barred with brown.
I will here add a few miscellaneous facts connected with reversion, and with the law of analogous variation. This law implies, as stated in a previous chapter, that the varieties of one species frequently mock distinct but allied species; and this fact is explained, according to the views which I maintain, on the principle of allied species having descended from one primitive form. The white Silk fowl with black skin and bones degenerates, as has been observed by Mr. Hewitt and Mr. R.
Orton, in our climate; that is, it reverts to the ordinary colour of the common fowl in its skin and bones, due care having been taken to prevent any cross. In Germany[30] a distinct breed with black bones, and with black, not silky plumage, has likewise been observed to degenerate.
Mr. Tegetmeier informs me that, when distinct breeds are crossed, fowls are frequently produced with their feathers marked or pencilled by narrow transverse lines of a darker colour. This may be in part explained by direct reversion to the parent-form, the Bankiva hen; for this bird has all its upper plumage finely mottled with dark and rufous brown, with the mottling partially and obscurely arranged in transverse lines. But the tendency to pencilling is probably much strengthened by the law of analogous variation, for the hens of some other species of Gallus are more plainly pencilled, and the hens of many gallinaceous birds belonging to other genera, as the partridge, have pencilled feathers. Mr. Tegetmeier has also remarked to me that, although with domestic pigeons we have so great a diversity of colouring, we never see either pencilled or spangled feathers; and this fact is intelligible on the law of analogous variation, as neither the wild rock pigeon nor any closely allied species has such feathers. The frequent appearance of pencilling in crossed birds probably accounts for the existence of “cuckoo” sub-breeds in the Game, Polish, Dorking, Cochin, Andalusian, and Bantam breeds. The plumage of these birds is slaty-blue or grey, with each feather transversely barred with darker lines, so as to resemble in some degree the plumage of the cuckoo. It is a singular fact, considering that the male of no species of Gallus is in the least barred, that the cuckoo-like plumage has often been transferred to the male, more especially in the cuckoo Dorking; and the fact is all the more singular, as in gold- and silver-pencilled Hamburghs, in which pencilling is characteristic of the breed, the male is hardly at all pencilled, this kind of plumage being confined to the female.
Another case of analogous variation is the occurrence of spangled sub-breeds of Hamburgh, Polish, Malay, and Bantam fowls. Spangled feathers have a dark mark, properly crescent-shaped, on their tips; whilst pencilled feathers have several transverse bars. The spangling cannot be due to reversion to _G. bankiva_; nor does it often follow, as I hear from Mr. Tegetmeier, from crossing distinct breeds; but it is a case of analogous variation, for many gallinaceous birds have spangled feathers,—for instance, the common pheasant. Hence spangled breeds are often called “pheasant”-fowls. Another case of analogous variation in several domestic breeds is inexplicable; it is, that the chickens, whilst covered with down, of the black Spanish, black Game, black Polish, and black Bantam, all have white throats and breasts, and often have some white on their wings.[31] The editor of the ‘Poultry Chronicle’[32] remarks that all the breeds which properly have red ear-lappets occasionally produce birds with white ear-Tappets. This remark more especially applies to the Game breed, which of all comes nearest to the _G. bankiva_; and we have seen that with this species living in a state of nature, the ear-lappets vary in colour, being red in the Malayan countries, and generally, but not invariably, white in India.
In concluding this part of my subject, I may repeat that there exists one widely-ranging, varying, and common species of Gallus, namely, _G.
bankiva,_ which can be tamed, produces fertile offspring when crossed with common fowls, and closely resembles in its whole structure, plumage, and voice the Game breed; hence it may be safely ranked as the parent of this, the most typical domesticated breed. We have seen that there is much difficulty in believing that other, now unknown, species have been the parents of the other domestic breeds. We know that all the breeds are most closely allied, as shown by their similarity in most points of structure and in habits, and by the analogous manner in which they vary. We have also seen that several of the most distinct breeds occasionally or habitually closely resemble in plumage _G.
bankiva,_ and that the crossed offspring of other breeds, which are not thus coloured, show a stronger or weaker tendency to revert to this same plumage. Some of the breeds, which appear the most distinct and the least likely to have proceeded from _G. bankiva,_ such as Polish fowls, with their protuberant and little ossified skulls, and Cochins, with their imperfect tail and small wings, bear in these characters the plain marks of their artificial origin. We know well that of late years methodical selection has greatly improved and fixed many characters; and we have every reason to believe that unconscious selection, carried on for many generations, will have steadily augmented each new peculiarity, and thus have given rise to new breeds. As soon as two or three breeds were once formed, crossing would come into play in changing their character and in increasing their number. Brahma Pootras, according to an account lately published in America, offer a good instance of a breed, lately formed by a cross, which can be truly propagated. The well-known Sebright Bantams offer another and similar instance. Hence it may be concluded that not only the Game-breed but that all our breeds are probably the descendants of the Malayan or Indian variety of _G. bankiva._ If so, this species has varied greatly since it was first domesticated; but there has been ample time, as we shall now show.
_History of the Fowl._—Rütimeyer found no remains of the fowl in the ancient Swiss lake-dwellings; but, according to Jeitteles,[33] such have certainly since been found associated with extinct animals and prehistoric remains. It is, therefore a strange fact that the fowl is not mentioned in the Old Testament, nor figured on the ancient Egyptian monuments. It is not referred to by Homer or Hesiod (about 900 B.C.); but is mentioned by Theognis and Aristophanes between 400 and 500 B.C.