In a somewhat roundabout fashion, the three House Finches (Haemorhous mexicanus) shown below led me to Charles Edward Howard Aiken (1850-1936), an accomplished practitioner of 19th century ornithology and entrepreneur. (Seen here are a male at lower right, female center, and a juvenile (?) upper left. If, by some slim chance I've misidentified the bird, it doesn't really affect the course of this post.) The spark that prompted my research voyage of discovery was in the species portion of the bird's scientific name: mexicanus, suggesting what was the animal's original home range. That I spotted these birds near a pond in Maryland suggested that there was a story to be uncovered here.
The guides I initially consulted to identify these birds offered a tantalizing bit of information in that regard. Here is part of what David Allen Sibley says about the House Finch in The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Eastern North America (2001):
Native to western North America; introduced to Long Island in the 1950s and from there colonized all of eastern United States and southern Canada. (p. 412)
From a few California individuals released from a pet store in New York City in 1939, and through natural expansion of its western range, in just a few decades this species came to occupy one of the widest ecological ranges of any extant bird. Originally a bird of hot deserts and dry open habitats of the southwest, it now occurs in nearly all types of landscapes and climates in North America, from edges of northern taiga to ocean coasts to metropolitan areas.
Here is the map of the present range of the House Finch appearing in Birds of the World:
Yes, the two sources just cited differ in terms of the timing of the first appearance of the House Finch in the eastern U.S., and, frankly, neither is as entertaining as the possibly true explanation of how this bird came east. In brief, that account has New York City pet store owners releasing the birds in 1940 ahead of a crackdown on their illegal trafficking in the animals, which had been sold as "Hollywood Finches" (the new name was a neat PR gimmick) and supplied to them by dealers on the west coast. This version is described in some detail by Nicholas Lund in his article titled The House Finch (Audobon Magazine, The Sketch, July 15, 2016). Even more detail, though not always consistent with Lund, is provided by John J. Elliott and Robert A. Arbib, Jr., in their piece titled Origin and Status of the House Finch in the Eastern United States (The Auk, volume 70, Issue 1, 1953, Digital Commons @ University of South Florida, September, 2024).
I searched for early 20th century guides to birds of the southwest U.S. to see what they might say about the House Finch and its range at the time. Here is the range map that appeared in Field Book of Birds of the Southwestern United States (Luther E. Wyman and Elizabeth R. Burnell, 1925, p. 173.):
Wyman and Burnell noted that the House Finch was "a bird of familiar habits, cursed for the damage he does to fruit, but on the whole probably more beneficial than injurious." (p. 172)
Comparing the two ranges maps shown above confirms that Badyaev et al., in Birds of the World, captured well the incredible spread of the House Finch across much of the U.S.
Yet, perhaps the most important find from my web search for early guides to southwestern birds was an initially puzzling hit, linking to what turned out to be a fascinating publication from Colorado College in 1937 titled Birds of the Southwest by Charles Edward Howard Aiken. (Colorado College Publication, General Series No. 212, Studies Series No. 23, March, 1937. The Aiken material was edited by naturalist Edward Royal Warren.)
This is not a guide to the birds of this region of the country, at least, not in any traditional sense. Rather, much of it consists of the edited journals Aiken kept during a single trip in 1876 by mule-drawn wagon from Colorado Springs, Colorado, south into New Mexico, west across New Mexico to Arizona, and then south in Arizona. His trek began on May 8, 1876, and ended with his return to Colorado Springs, probably in late November of that same year. The objective of his journey: collect birds and birds' eggs. So, he shot and skinned birds as he went, and pilfered nests for their eggs.
This was ornithology as it was largely practiced in the 19th century. Shoot and skin. The rarer the bird, the more the incentive to collect its carcass. It wasn't until the early and mid 20th century that the practice of ornithology moved from killing to observation. Interesting and brief discussions of this change as it was sparked by some leading ornithologists can be found in two articles that appeared recently in Smithsonian Magazine: The Hero who Convinced His Fellow Ornithologists of the Obvious: Stop Shooting Rare Birds and Watch Them Instead (Tim Gallagher, Smithsonian Magazine, December, 2024) and How Bird Collecting Evolved Into Bird-Watching (Tim Birkhead, Smithsonian Magazine, August 8, 2022).
Though Aiken's journey undoubtedly fed the fledgling taxidermy business he began in Colorado Springs in 1874, and likely supported some trade in birds' eggs, it also reflected his deep interest in, and knowledge of, birds of the region. Further, I suspect Aiken had a thirst for adventure, something that had manifested itself in the many birding trips he undertook beginning in1872, trips that built his avian knowledge. That he was already recognized for this ornithological skills was evident by his work in the summer of 1874 as a naturalist with the Wheeler Survey (1872-1879), a survey organized by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to create topographical maps of the southwestern U.S. In 1876, Aiken was certainly no birding neophyte.
In addition to his taxidermy business, Aiken was, at various times in his adult life, the owner of a "tannery and wool pulling factory," an employee of a firm selling pianos and sewing machines, the agent booking traveling shows, and a dog breeder. His collection of some 5,000 bird skins and mounts were purchased and donated to the Colorado College Museum (subsequently donated to the University of Colorado (Boulder) Museum of Natural History).
(The biographical information about Aiken comes from the profile written by Edward Warren and included in Birds of the Southwest, and from the biographical description included in the finding aid to Aiken's collected papers held by the Colorado College. The finding aid was written by Ginny Kiefer and published in September, 1984. Her biographical material is based on Aiken's obituary that appeared in the Colorado Springs Gazette, January 16, 1936.)
Aiken is pictured below in 1874 in Pueblo, Colorado, sporting what may well be the equipment favored by 19th century birders.
(The date and identification of the location of this image are those provided in Wikimedia Commons. The image is in the public domain. This and other pictures of Aiken can also be found at a digital archive at the Colorado College website.)
His account of his 1876 trip is at times quite compelling for his interest in natural history was broad and, despite that fact that he had no apparent compunction about killing his quarry, he was a perceptive observer of birds. As a record of what he saw and where, the journal is valuable (Edward Warren provided a catalogue at the end of this volume), though at times, the many names begin to blur. This is balanced by his descriptions of the behavior of different bird species which are typically detailed and clear (certainly this was knowledge he needed if he wanted to get off a good shot). Beyond the birds, he had an appreciative eye for the landscape through which he was traveling, noting changes in the vegetation, particularly the mix of trees, that marked differences in altitude and climate. His prose never quite rises to the lyrical, but is frequently evocative.
The trip was arduous, often over roads that, I suspect, were roads in name only, and through areas with little water or vegetation. During the summer months, the weather was particularly hot. At one stage, he was seriously ill for several days.
While on the outward portion of his journey, Aiken entered Albuquerque, New Mexico, and there found a multitude of House Finches. What he penned in his journal about this encounter is amazingly prescient, reflecting an understanding of the bird and its potential to live outside its native range of "hot deserts and dry open habitats of the southwest." (As described by Badyaev, et al., in Birds of the World.)
At Albuquerque the Red-breasted Carpodacus (House Finch) was breeding abundantly, placing its nests on the beams of the plaza. By the kindness of the hotel keeper I was allowed to secure a nest with three eggs from his building. These birds are very tame, and as they are sweet singers and of bright plumage have quite a cheering effect about one's dooryard. If they could be induced, as I think they could, to adopt for their homes the parks of our eastern cities they would be far preferable to the pugilistic foreigner (P. domesticus) [House Sparrow]. I think the former possess all the latter's good traits and none of their bad ones, and their pleasant song and bright plumage would make them much more attractive. (p. 17)
(His disparagement of the House Sparrow is well taken because that bird is relentless in its efforts to control the nesting areas it prefers, driving out and killing members of other species that might attempt to occupy the same niches. (See, for example, North American Bluebird Society, NABS Factsheet, House Sparrow Control, revised 2018.) I'm with Aiken in thinking the House Finch is preferable to the little terrorist House Sparrow.)
When I compare the two range maps shown earlier, I wonder if any of the New York City pet store owners in 1940 who, one step ahead of the law, opened the cages and freed their Hollywood Finches, had any inkling of the consequences of what they were doing. Aiken would have known.
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