I grew up in Toronto, the largest city in Canada, then moved to a small city in my early 30s and less than a decade later downsized, once again, to a gulf island (pop. 4000) between mainland British Columbia and Vancouver Island. One of the things I enjoy about living in a small community is learning the history of a place. It may not always involve grand feats, major discoveries or inventions, or famous people, but it can be fascinating all the same.
This tale involves a historical court case I stumbled across involving chickens. It seems rather folksy and quaint by today’s standards that four chickens that crossed their property line into a neighbour’s yard would land their owner in court and make the news. Clearly there wasn’t much going on in sleepy Lethbridge, a prairie town in Alberta whose population in 1921 was a mere 11,097.
Sadly, that little town has grown by almost ten times in the last century and is now nicknamed Methbridge, due to rising problems with drug use. That’s another story and we’re here to talk about chickens.
In August 1921, the case of some chickens at large in Lethbridge came up before the police magistrate and a police officer suggested a rather clever way to prove ownership of the chickens.
“Hold March Past Of Four Chickens”
Court Decision Will Rest Upon the Fold the Birds Decide to Enter
Something of the wisdom of Solomon in deciding the rival claims of two women was brought into use at the city police court on Monday, the magistrate acting on a suggestion made by Detective Wallis. The case, however, was not connected with infants, but with chickens.
Bert Wigg appeared on the charge of allowing chickens to be at large, on information laid by his next-door neighbor Mrs. Kemsley. The chickens, four of them, had been seized by the informant and lodged for safety in her cellar. Wigg pled ‘not guilty’ to the charge and denied that the chickens were his, while Mrs. Kemsley affirmed that they belonged to him. The magistrate decided that a police officer should go to the premises this evening and that the chickens should be liberated from the cellar in his presence, with watch kept as to where they made their way. If they went to join the flock of Mr. Wigg it would be considered that they belonged to him, although he repudiated ownership.” (15 August 1921, Lethbridge Daily Herald)
In the end, the chickens went home and were definitely from the Wigg’s flock. To ensure that they were the right chickens, a string was tied around the leg of each (so they could be identified after they returned to the coop) and an impartial third-party was called in to be another witness when they were released. Three of the chickens went to the Wigg property, while one went into someone else’s garden. Bert Wigg still denied that the chickens were his. He felt that chickens would go anywhere after dark. The police and magistrate disagreed and he was fined $2.
The incident didn’t end there, though. Something written about it in the Herald resulted in Mrs. Kemsley writing a letter to the editor about the incident:
“Sir, Your statement published in tonight’s issue of the Herald is absolutely false. I have never thrust any chicken on Berg Wigg. It was Detective Wallis who suggested that these chickens should be freed to allow them to find their way home and they went home. In regard to these chickens, they have been a complete nuisance to our home the whole of the summer. I summoned Bert Wigg and obtained a verdict against him, he admitted the chickens were his. We are Lethbridge citizens, assessed at $1700 for our home; do you not think for this sum we are entitled to live in peace without our home and garden being overrun with chickens?”
“The law is: Chickens shall be penned, that it is illegal that they shall run around. All of our neighbors, including ourselves (bar Wigg) have their chickens penned as all good neighbors should, and I consider the statement in the Herald most unjust and incorrect and I ask you in all fairness, you publish an apology.
Your Truly, Mrs. C. Kemsley.
(17 August 1921, Lethbridge Daily Herald)
A century later, squabbles between neighbours over wandering chickens still happen – I read about it all the time in online chicken groups – but there’s no way that such an infraction would involve the police and court system today. I suggest that we all respect our property lines and neighbours’ desire not to deal with our flocks by endeavoring to keep them from roaming. And by the way, the fine of $2 was fairly hefty at a time when the minimum wage was just .25/hour.
Credit: Lethbridge Historical Society Featured image: Freepik
Bitchin' Chickens 
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