Woman wearing a hat with egret feathers. The species' population was decimated when hats using their feathers swept into fashion in the late 1800s.
An egret in breeding plumage.
Spring comes to Alaska on the wings of nearly five billion birds, making epic journeys under the protection of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. Many will breed and nest within the state's 16 National Wildlife Refuges. Americans didn't always preserve wild birds this way. A century ago, birdwatchers would have spotted species from waxwings to warblers to woodpeckers adorning hats.
Bird hats became popular in America in the late 19th century, when mass printing of fashion magazines spread the trend from Europe. Hat-makers didn't stop at feathers: some used entire stuffed birds as decoration. One hat featured parts from 3,000 Brazilian hummingbirds. When the American Museum of Natural History's ornithologist surveyed Manhattan's streets in 1886, three-quarters of the 700 ladies' hats he saw featured stuffed birds or feathers, representing 40 different native species.
Beautiful feathers came at an ugly price. Hunters killed between 5 and 15 million American birds every year for the plume trade.
An agent slaughtered 40,000 terns on Cape Cod in one season, while a trader on the Virginia coast bagged an equal number of seabirds to meet a single milliner's demand. Ships laden with feathers crossed the Atlantic to supply auction houses in London and Paris. The industry threatened more than 60 species worldwide with extinction.
Wading birds faced especially high risk. An ounce of lacy nuptial plumes from a heron's or egret's back cost twice as much as an ounce of gold in 1886. Since birds only grew these feathers in spring to attract mates, hunters raided nesting colonies. They shot the adults and left the orphaned chicks to starve.
In 1896, an American zoologist published an article describing this gruesome practice. "It was a common thing for a rookery of several hundred birds to be attacked by the plume hunters," he wrote. "In two or three days utterly destroyed."
The article outraged a Boston socialite named Harriet Lawrence Hemenway. An amateur naturalist notorious for birdwatching in unfashionable white sneakers, she could not stand by while birds were butchered. She shared the story with her cousin and fellow nature lover, Minna Hall. The egrets' plight horrified them both. But in an era when women could not even vote, how could they stop an entire industry?
Luckily, social change didn't intimidate Harriet. She had activism in her blood. Born in 1858 into a family of abolitionists, she once invited black author Booker T. Washington to stay at her house when Boston hotels refused him a room. People said that outgoing, energetic Harriet had a mind of her own. And on that chilly January day, she made up her mind to save America's birds from a fashionable fate.
Harriet and Minna realized that if people stopped buying bird hats, the hunting would end. They invited Boston's most influential ladies to a series of tea parties where they discussed the plume trade. Over cups and crumpets, they persuaded 900 women to boycott feathered accessories. They also sent out flyers asking women to join "a society for the protection of birds, especially the egret."
Knowing they'd need male allies for their group to be taken seriously, Harriet and Minna recruited well-known bird experts to join their cause. They named the new organization The Massachusetts Audubon Society, after the famous bird painter John James Audubon. Membership quickly grew to 111 local chapters that held fundraisers, sponsored conservation talks, and distributed pamphlets. By 1897, Massachusetts had outlawed the trade in wild bird feathers.
Soon the "Bird Hat Campaign" caught on across the country. Over the next three years, 20 other states formed Audubon Societies that boasted a cumulative 40,000 members. They helped popularize bird-free "Audubonnets" made from silk and ribbon. Responding to the shift in public attitudes, Congress banned interstate sale of protected species. That slowed the plume trade, but didn't stop it. According to one story, Harriet and Minna tracked down a warehouse selling illegal feathers and reported it to authorities. Clearly birds still needed more protection.
Three years later, at the urging of Audubon groups, President Theodore Roosevelt created the first Federal Bird Reservation. He went on to establish 55 preserves that became the National Wildlife Refuge System. In 1913, a new law prohibited shooting birds in spring. This led to the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918, which outlawed commercial hunting of wild birds and effectively ended the plume trade. The advocacy of two bold women had driven feathered hats to extinction.
It can also inspire bird lovers today. Despite a century of legal protection, American birds are far from safe: recent political administrations have attempted to weaken the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, and habitat loss threatens many species. The scale of these conservation challenges can seem daunting. Yet Harriet Hemenway and Minna Hall proved how much determined citizens can do, starting in their own communities. Alaskans can follow their example by connecting with local wildlife organizations like Bird Treatment and Learning Center at http://www.birdtlc.org. With compassion for the wild birds that share our world, positive change can take flight.
J.K. Ulrich is a volunteer at the Bird Treatment and Learning Center.
