GameFowlBreeders.info

    Not since the year 1909 have I written at length the histroy of my game birds but since Grit and Steel has so generously asked me to furnish something on this line, I will five in. In the early eighties (1880's) I owned my first game cock, I was a mere lad at that time, but had seen combats between game cocks and had an opportunity to purchase one, but no privilage of taking him home at that time as my father ketp a large yard of Plymouth Rocks and would have nothing molest them. Just to show you how muchcocking knowledge I had at that time will say I fought that one cock thirteen times the first Sunday after he became my property and of course he won thirteen battles with naked heels against cockrels, stags and two dunghill cocks. I was soon advanced beyond this stage however, and many good game cocks passed through my hands worn out and destroyed. My love for game birds continued to grow until my father agreed that I might keep them on a seperate yard from his fowl on the old home farm, then I started breeding and made hits and misses. I fought cocks and stags against all comers, losing and winning after ten years had passed I figured I was hundreds and hundreds of dollars loser, expenses counted.

 

    Finally, I secured Hopkinson Warhorses, Mugwumps and Murtishaw Blues, discarded everything else, bred these on seperate yards and won mains and hacks against all comers. Later on I bred I added Black Hackles, Columbian Shufflers, Shawlnecks, Red Cubans and later still Harry Kent Tarheels. I was yet a very young fellow, but was breeding winning cocks. Here as most breeders have done, I began my experimental crossing, this brought about some of the most wonderful cocks to be found, again it brought about cocks that I was forced to discard, yes, yards to discard.

 

    Never have I let up a season or a day since I started with my first brood yard and I love a game bird today as much as I did when I was a young man, or a mere boy.

 

    From my experimental crossings I finally had many yards coming on that were the product of my many crosses which stand up under severe cutting, fight a down cock as long as he could find his head and one day I over-heard a fellow trying to get a bet on a cock I was heeling, the fellow replied, "No I won't beat against that Eagle," so from that expression I got the name Mountain Eagle. Old Mirt, named for the Murtishaw Blue cross that was in him was the best cock I ever saw. I have seen thousands of cocks heeled and turned loose in the pit that did pretty fighting, but Old Mirt was the one that never missed, always appeared to measure the exact distance the other cock would fly and Old Mirt caught him one bit higher and cut him down before his feet ever hit the ground again. More than once have I seen him turn in the air, catch a cock the second time and shuffle on him. He fought exacly eleven battles against eleven fine well conditioned cocks for all the money i could afford to bet, and Mirt cut down his man on the first fly in all his ten first battles. It was in the eleventh fight and his last fight that he failed to disable his man on the first fly. This eleventh fight and his last fight he was handled by Lieut. H.M. Kent, and pitted against Mr. John F. Kelley, of Charlotte, in this battle, both cocks were cut to ribbons in the first long buckle, but each cock kept going for many pittings when finally with a wing, an eye and a leg temporarily crippled he finished his man, winninghis eleventh battle. I had been using him for a brood cock now for six years and he had sired hundreds and hundreds of fine stags and hens. After this last battle he was kept on my home yard at my door all the rest of his life; two year only, and died a natural death and nine years old.