Tag: war

1889- “Feather War” Devastates Coma

by Coma Historian and Coma News Daily intern Stan Bargmeyer

Otto Lumpkin’s farm was an unlikely setting for one of Coma’s most notorious chapters.  It was there, amidst the fields of cabbage and stew tomatoes, a band of militant and disgruntled Buff Orpington chickens led a hasty and tragic armed revolt against Lumpkin and his family.

The birds fashioned swords out of feathers and surprised Lumpkin at dawn as he was scattering feed to the angry mob. Caught completely off guard by the uprising and fearing for his safety, Lumpkin quickly disarmed the nearly two dozen feather-wielding birds and wrangled them back to their coops.  The entire ordeal lasted nearly four minutes and left a deep scar in the human-chicken community for years.

02 22 2016 chicken

ABOVE: Artist rendering of a chicken clutching an infamous feather sword during the uprising of 1889.

While no serious injuries were reported, Lumpkin noted that several chickens brushed his boots with the feather swords, causing no pain or even slight discomfort.

Local militia were called in following the revolt to help restore order.  Several of the birds were sentenced to death and served with cabbage and stewed tomatoes that evening.  Others were forced to spend the rest of their lives in captivity.

The ordeal was given the name the “Feather War” by a local reporter who covered the incident for the Coma Daily News in 1889.  The tension between humans and chickens continued for several decades, easing slightly during World War I.

Otto Lumpkin is reported to have died in his sleep in 1910 although his death remains controversial to this day as several feathers were found near his bed.  Investigators ruled the death from natural causes by many in the community still believe his chickens played a role in his demise.

Butter Sword Aimed to Revolutionize Dairy Industry

By Coma Historian and News Intern Stan Bargmeyer

In the fall of 1823, Coma farmer and noted inventor Arwel Hemington stood before a group of American military leaders on his farm just outside town to share what he called “the greatest military invention of the last six-to-eight weeks.” Hemington’s invention was nothing new, but the materials used to create it, he thought, would turn the dairy world, and military conflict upside down.

What Hemington shared on that dreary, cold afternoon on his 43-acre farm was a sword thats blade was made entirely from chilled butter.  Upon revealing his latest invention, the assembled group of generals gasped and gaffawed and for a moment seemed completely in awe of Hemington’s innovation.

Hemington's butter sword (above) was a promising econonmic windfall for dairy farmers.

Hemington’s butter sword (above) was a promising econonmic windfall for dairy farmers.

Hemington later wrote to friends “these men of might and brawn appeared to tremble like small school girls at the sight of the sweet-cream, buttery blade. I knew at once I had them in my grasp and before me I foresaw a future in which battlefields would be strewn with bits of the savory, delicate goodness.”

According to United States Department of Defense records, the United States Army ordered nearly two-thousand butter swords on the spot.  Hemington told the group he could produce the weapons at one-half the cost of the standard steel version.

Hemington, who quickly became a hero to dairy farmers throughout the region, delivered the butter swords to Washington DC in person the following spring.  Upon arriving in the nation’s capitol, and much to Hemington’s horror, the swords had been reduced to puddles of melted butter as temperatures soared to the upper 50s.

Ashamed and feeling dishonored, Hemington returned to Coma where he spent his remaining years in a self-imposed exile.  Although he continued to work on a series of inventions, including a suit of armor made entirely from duck feathers and a catapult that shot buckets of luke-warm water at enemies.  Hemington died in 1858.

According to friends, Hemington "failed to grasp the essence of warfare."

According to friends, Hemington “failed to grasp the nature of warfare.”