Exactly who are those guys, anyway?

When I have some spare time, I often pick up a field guide to birds to study confusing species or dream about seeing new species in places I've never been. And almost always I note that many birds are named after people with vaguely familiar names. Some I recognize, but many are obscure.
This week my curiosity got the best of me; I counted more than 80 common names that honor prominent early America naturalists. Who are these guys? Turns out the answer to that question is a fascinating lesson in the history of American ornithology. Here are a few of their stories.
John James Audubon (1785-1851), ornithology's brightest historic star, warrants only two species, his oriole and shearwater, though the National Audubon Society and its local chapters across the country make his a household name. Born in Haiti, Audubon was a brilliant artist, naturalist and woodsman whose greatest work was the double-elephant folio edition of "The Birds of America." His journals include memorable descriptions of unimaginably large flocks of now-extinct passenger pigeons crossing the Ohio River.
Alexander Wilson (1766-1813) is regarded by many as the father of ornithology. His illustrated account of North American birds, "American Ornithology," was the premier natural history of its time. The Wilson Ornithological Society is named for him, and five species -- more than anyone else -- bear his name: Wilson's storm-petrel, plover, phalarope, snipe and warbler.
Lewis and Clark and Clark
Clark's nutcracker and Clark's grebe commemorate two individuals. William Clark (1770-1838), of Lewis and Clark fame, was a soldier, explorer, surveyor and naturalist and was among the first white men to see the large jaylike nutcracker. Merriwether Lewis (1774-1809), a skilled naturalist and the greatest explorer in U.S. history, is remembered by the woodpecker that bears his name. He and Clark led the three-year expedition to find a northwest passage to the Pacific Ocean. Lt. John Henry Clark (1830?-?) was a surveyor-zoologist for the U.S. Army in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. He is honored by the grebe.
John Cassin (1813-1869) was one of a number of Philadelphians instrumental in the early days of ornithology. Though he was a businessman, his meticulous nature earned him the curatorship of birds at the Philadelphia Academy of Sciences. In the mid-1880s he was the ornithologist aboard Admiral Perry's voyage to Japan. Cassin's auklet, kingbird, vireo and finch honor his memory. Spencer Fullerton Baird (1823-1887) grew up in Pennsylvania and was not yet 20 when he befriended an aging Audubon. He ultimately became secretary of the Smithsonian Institution and persuaded Congress to build the Museum of Natural History. Birders remember him by his sandpiper and sparrow.
Close ties
Rev. John Bachman (1790-1874) befriended Audubon in 1831 when Audubon stayed at Bachman's house during a collecting trip to South Carolina. They became friends and collaborators. Audubon's two sons married Bachman's two daughters, and they jointly authored the "Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America." Bachman actually discovered the warbler and sparrow that bear his name. Audubon named the warbler for his friend.
Edward Harris (1799-1863) was a wealthy amateur naturalist and horse breeder from New Jersey. He financed several of Audubon's field expeditions and accompanied him to the Florida Keys and up the Missouri River. Audubon named Harris's hawk for his friend. Philadelphia botanist Thomas Nuttall named the Harris's sparrow.
Named for women
Though men clearly dominated the early days of ornithology, three women have been immortalized by warblers that bear their names. Grace Coues was the sister of Elliot Coues (1842-1899), one of the founders of the American Ornithologists' Union. Lucy Baird Hunter was Spencer Baird's daughter. And Virginia Anderson was the wife of William Wallace Anderson, an army doctor who collected the first specimen of the warbler named for his wife. Spencer Baird named Grace's, Lucy's and Virginia's warblers.
Field guides can be much more than identification manuals. With help from reference books, Internet search engines, and your friendly newspaper nature columnist, they can also be windows to the past.
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