Birds, Illustrated by Color Photography, Vol. 2, No. 1: July 1897

In Short

This collection represents the second volume of a monthly periodical dedicated to popularizing ornithology through high-quality color illustrations and accessible biographies. By moving away from purely technical descriptions, the work invites readers—both children and adults—to appreciate the beauty and varied behaviors of common and exotic birds. It has lasted as a fascinating time capsule of late 19th-century nature study, reflecting both the Victorian enthusiasm for collecting and the burgeoning, early conservationist impulse to protect species threatened by human fashion and sport.

The Story

The volume opens with a mission statement: to promote knowledge of bird life through accurate portraiture and engaging text. It immediately establishes a tone of wonder, framing the reader’s journey as an entry into a world where birds are not merely specimens to be categorized, but living, behaving creatures with distinct personalities and family lives. The reader is encouraged to take the magazine into parks and fields, treating it as a guide to identification.

The narrative arc moves through a series of profiles, each focusing on a specific species. We learn of the Mallard, whose seasonal change in plumage mimics a wardrobe change; the Wood Duck, whose nesting habits in hollow trees show an almost human-like parental devotion; and the curious Snake Bird, or Anhinga, whose strange underwater movements have birthed sailors’ superstitions for generations. The text frequently highlights the intersection of bird life and human culture, mentioning how the Plover’s habit of "telling tales" to warn its companions of danger earns it the ire of sportsmen, or how the Canvas-back Duck’s reputation for flavor is often more a product of culinary fashion than culinary reality.

The emotional core of the volume centers on the Bald Eagle, specifically the legendary "Old Abe," a veteran of the American Civil War. His story serves as a bridge between the wild majesty of the bird and the patriotic fervor of the era. We see him not as a creature of the wilderness, but as a mascot perched on a shield, a witness to the noise of artillery and the smoke of battle, eventually retiring to a quiet life in the Wisconsin State Capitol. This patriotic narrative is balanced, however, by the darker, more somber closing segments. The profile of the Snowy Heron introduces a sharp, moral pivot, condemning the "garniture of death" worn by women in the form of plumes. Here, the story concludes on a note of urgent advocacy, shifting from mere observation to an appeal for the protection of species being driven to the brink of extinction by the cruel demands of vanity.

How It Unfolds

The pedagogical introduction The editors set the stage by claiming success for their previous volume, emphasizing that their blend of "accurate colored portraiture" and "juvenile biographical text" has found a home in public schools and the libraries of amateur observers.

The practical field guide Readers are encouraged to use the periodical in local parks to identify species like the Red-wing Blackbird, learning to distinguish between the ideal representation in the photograph and the subtle variations found in the living, moving bird.

The biographical profiles The volume transitions to a series of specific studies on birds like the Woodcock and the Avocet, detailing their migratory patterns, unique physical adaptations, and the strange, often humorous, common names bestowed upon them by local populations.

The legendary war veteran A lengthy digression explores the life of "Old Abe," the Bald Eagle, examining his symbolic status across history—from the Romans to the United States—before recounting his specific service record during the Civil War.

The call to conservation The final entries move away from simple description toward an ethical critique, particularly regarding the plight of the Snowy Heron, explicitly linking the consumer choices of the reader to the destruction of bird populations.

The People

While this is a work of natural history, several figures emerge as central to the experience of the book. First is the Reader, imagined by the editors as a curious juvenile or an amateur naturalist who is invited to walk through public parks with the magazine in hand, transforming from a passive observer into an active enthusiast.

Then there is Old Abe, the Bald Eagle, who acts as the volume’s most singular character. He is portrayed with a surprising degree of agency, possessing the ability to recognize his specific regiment, showing affection for some soldiers while attacking those he disliked, and exhibiting a genuine affinity for the chaos of military conflict. He serves as a bridge between the wild, imperial symbolism of his species and the personal, domestic loyalty expected of a regimental mascot.

Finally, the Plume Hunter serves as the necessary villain of the piece. Though he does not speak, his presence is felt as a destructive force that the authors encourage the reader to confront. He is the direct antagonist to the Humane Education Committee and the "kind-hearted women" whom the editors hope to persuade. The reader is positioned as the final arbiter in this struggle; by refusing to purchase the products of the hunter's labor, the reader becomes a guardian of the birds, changing the narrative from one of observation to one of protection.

In Its Own Voice

"Seating myself amidst a small grove of trees, what was my delight at seeing a Red Wing alight on a telegraph wire stretching across the park."

A reader shares his experience of using the magazine as a guide to identify local birds in a city park.

"He takes the fish that are thrown upon the shores by the waves, and sometimes he robs the Fish Hawk of his food."

The text describes the scavenging and predatory behavior of the Bald-headed Eagle.

"Ah, life, and joy, and song, depend upon it, Are costly trimmings for a woman's bonnet!"

The author quotes May Riley Smith to emphasize the moral cost of the plume trade.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the book is an argument for the intrinsic value of nature. It attempts to bridge the distance between the city-dwelling public and the wild, suggesting that beauty and intelligence exist in the common marshlands and tree hollows just as much as in the heroic, symbolic figures of the eagle. The work grapples with the transition of the bird from an object of scientific study or sport to a creature deserving of ethical consideration. It asks the reader to recognize that the "joy of imitation"—the attempt to capture nature on the page—must be accompanied by a responsibility to ensure that nature itself is not lost to the forces of human indifference and greed.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the history of natural science or the evolution of environmental thought will find this volume deeply engaging. It captures a specific moment in time—the late 19th-century Victorian obsession with classification and visual documentation—before the advent of modern field guides. The prose is earnest and warm, often addressed directly to "Dear Boys and Girls," which creates an intimate, if somewhat dated, reading experience.

Modern readers may find the period attitudes challenging. The authors freely use terms like "pot hunters" and display a casual, if occasionally contradictory, relationship with the birds they describe—one moment admiring a bird's beauty, the next discussing its "edible qualities" as a game bird. Yet, this is exactly what makes the book worth reading. It serves as a transparent record of how humanity’s relationship with the natural world has shifted from a stance of conquest and consumption toward one of stewardship. The photographs, while primitive by today’s standards, retain a haunting, staged quality that speaks to the era’s desire to "possess" nature through the lens. It is a gentle, pedagogical, and occasionally moralizing read that leaves the reader with a heightened awareness of the fragility of the living world and the long, slow progress of the conservation movement.