My paper focused on a little known, but I feel important, piece of legislation to create wildlife refuges that dragged on for most of the 1920s. My argument is that this bitter debate between different groups of wildlife protectionists shattered a coalition that had achieved striking success in the decade before the introduction of the refuge bill. In short, the goals that the preservationist wing (led by William Hornaday) and the sportsmen or utilitarian wing (led by John Burnham) differed in fundamental ways, which created mistrust between the two groups. I won't say anymore; you can read the full version below.
My presentation did not go as well as I would have liked. For some reason, I stumbled over several words and lost my place once or twice. I felt I was reading too fast, even though several practice runs at a slower pace had me coming in well within the time limit.
The theme of our
conference today is “disagreement, debate, and discussion.” My paper focuses on
the disagreement, debate, and discussion within the conservation movement over three
bills between 1923 and 1929 to establish federal migratory bird refuges. In the short term, this acrimonious,
internecine battle stalled an important piece of legislation. This delay
exacerbated the conditions that the legislation sought to relieve. In the long
term, it wrecked a coalition that had only a decade before achieved historic
victories to protect American birds.
As John Reiger
points out in his seminal American
Sportsmen and the Origins of Conservation, the early enlightened hunters –
men like George Bird Grinnell and Theodore Roosevelt -- supported forest and
water conservation largely because they understood the importance of habitat to
the protection of their game. By 1921 many sportsmen concluded that they
deserved to enjoy the fruit of their conservation labors after several decades
of hard work. Their leading spokesperson was John Bird Burnham, president of
the American Game Protection Association (AGPA), [and this is a very important
part of the story] a conservation organization financed by a conglomeration of
gun and ammunition manufacturing companies such as DuPont, Remington, and
Winchester. Burnham also served as the chairman of the influential Migratory Bird
Advisory Board, which was created in 1913 to advise the secretary of agriculture
on federal hunting policy and regulations. Burnham believed that American wildlife
was in what he in 1923, called, “a vigorous and hopeful renaissance,” largely
due to the efforts of sportsmen to put sound conservation measures in the
local, state, and federal statute books. Echoing his idol Theodore Roosevelt,
Burnham wanted hunting to be an accessible sport to all Americans, not just the
wealthy who could afford costly excursions to remote areas. He wished to
expand, as he said, "the
[American] system that aims to preserve for all the people the benefits that
otherwise will accrue only to those blessed with considerably more that an
average share of wealth."
Burnham envisioned a refuge system
paid for by hunters through a $1 federal license to shoot migratory waterfowl. He
reasoned that if sportsmen financed the refuges, they should benefit from them in
the form of public shooting grounds on or adjacent to the refuges. Public
shooting grounds would provide good hunting opportunities to Americans of all
income levels.
If
Hornaday had not been thinking deeply about the New-Anthony Bill, he did
formulate his own proposals for hunting regulation. He envisioned himself as
the representative of the millions of Americans who did not hunt. This
predominately urbanite constituency mirrored the 44 million people who visited
the zoo over his thirty-year tenure. Unlike Burnham, Hornaday believed American
wildlife was in a state of precipitous and dangerous decline. He was alarmed by
the growing numbers of hunters who took the field, like so many George
Babbitts, with their new gadgets, more effective guns, and most especially
their automobiles that granted them unprecedented access. He knew he could not
stop them from taking the field, but be believed strongly that some
restrictions could counter the negative effects that growing numbers of hunters
were having on wildlife populations. At the December 1923 meeting of the
Migratory Bird Advisory Board, Hornaday introduced a measure to reduce the
daily bag limits on duck and geese. Although he was voted down by the decisive
vote of 16-2, the issue of bag limits became thoroughly entangled with
discussion of the migratory bird refuge legislation.
In
early December 1924 Hornaday and Edwin Nelson met at the Waldorf Astoria in New
York City to discuss bag limits. Nelson felt caught between rival conservation
factions. On the one hand he did not want to anger the hunters. The federal
government had too few wardens and Nelson was forced to rely mostly on their
voluntary compliance to fairly new and not necessarily popular federal hunting regulations.
On the other hand, Nelson gave some consideration to Hornaday’s position that
waterfowl populations were declining in number, if only because it seemed the
logical effect of shrinking breeding grounds. Before committing himself,
however, Nelson wanted to conduct a population survey. In 1925 he issued a
report that supported Burnham’s position wildlife increase and claimed that game
populations were in fact increasing between 10 and 200 percent depending on
location. As a result of this report Hornaday came to view Nelson as a
dishonest broker standing in the camp of the gun makers and their minion, John
Burnham. As Chairman of the Permanent Wildlife Protection Fund — a well endowed
organization of which he was essentially the only member — Hornaday issued a
press release that found its way into a front page article in the New York Times. Hornaday publicly
proclaimed that Burnham and Nelson were nothing less than "paid agents of
the big corporations who make and sell guns and ammunition." The tone of
Hornaday’s inflammatory comments weighed heavy on the wildlife protection
community. While not defending Burnham, some newspapers felt that Hornaday’s
rhetoric was entirely too scathing and too personal. Two years later Burnham successfully
sued Hornaday for libel over the press release.
Within
several weeks of Hornaday’s attack on Burnham, a convention of state game
commissioners met in Denver, Colorado. The atmosphere was tense bordering on
hostile. "A gleaming spear was poised at every tepee entrance," T.
Gilbert Pearson, the secretary of the Audubon Society, wrote later. Through several
difficult meetings the factions forged a deal, referred to as the Madsen
Compromise, after Utah game commissioner David Madsen that removed the hunting
license provision from the refuge bill. This compromise would give the
sportsmen the public shooting grounds they demanded and Hornaday an alternative
revenue stream he demanded. Ironically, neither Hornaday nor Burnham trusted
the other enough to support the deal. Hornaday felt that without a bag limit
reduction to offset the public shooting grounds, the compromise was nothing more
than an empty gesture designed only to disarm him and his supporters. "John
Burnham's influence for evil is perfectly amazing," he wrote in disgust to
Will Dilg of the Izaak Walton League. To an extent, Hornaday was correct to be
suspicious. Burnham openly admitted to friends that he felt no obligation to be
bound by the "compromise" for he felt that, as he wrote, one
correspondent, that Hornaday and his allies had "laid a trap" for him
in Denver. As the two most dominating, powerful,
and respected personalities in the wildlife protection movement grew more
divided they drowned out the vast majority in the middle who were willing to
work with each other in good faith.
In
1926 a migratory bird refuge bill was re-introduced into the Congress with the
hunting license and public shooting grounds provisions. Supporters were
cautiously optimistic that it would pass this time. Capturing this mood, T.
Gilbert Pearson of the Audubon Society wrote to Frank Chapman in February 1926,
“Altogether I feel the situation is
pretty good for its passage this year, if no one of a dozen or more flourishing
monkey-wrenches do not happen to land in the works.” Inopportunely Hornaday
lobbed such a monkey wrench in the form of a bill sponsored by Senator
Royal Copeland of New York and Representative Schuyler Merritt of Connecticut to reduce bag limits.
Hornaday viewed the reduction as absolutely essential to equalize the impact of
the proposed public shooting grounds, but it seemed to his adversaries as
nothing more than an irresponsible provocation. The bag limit bill was highly controversial
among conservationists because it challenged the Progressive Era assumptions
that policy was best made by interested parties and trained experts. Putting nuts
and bolts wildlife management decisions in the hands of untutored Congressmen
seemed downright dangerous.
On
April 29, 1926, during a debate on the Migratory Bird Refuge bill in the House,
New York Congressman Fiorello LaGuardia denounced the public shooting grounds
proposal as a sham, “under the guise of conservation.” Then he proceeded to
read into the Congressional Record
excerpts of confidential correspondence between John Burnham and the bigwigs of
the gun and ammunition manufacturing firms. Burnham wrote in one such missive
in 1924, "The sentimentalists led by Doctor Hornaday are demanding cuts in
the bag limits and seasons, which if carried to the logical conclusion means
the reduction of shooting opportunities to the vanishing point. Of course, if
this happens, the sale of firearms and ammunition will be seriously
affected." Such comments impeached Burnham's credibility, and seemingly validated
all that Hornaday had been saying about the conflict of interest between
Burnham's role as Chairman of the Migratory Bird Advisory Board and his position
as president of the conservation organization funded by the nation's largest
gun and ammunition corporations. Speaking of the effect of the publication of
Burnham's correspondence on the pending legislation, Massachusetts state Ornithologist
and stalwart Hornaday ally Edward Howe Forbush commented, "If he wrote those letters, he has killed the game
refuge bill."
Four
weeks later Hornaday announced his retirement as Director of the Bronx Zoo, a
position he had held since 1896. It was rumored at the time that he had in fact
been forced to resign. Frederic Walcott of the Bronx Zoo's Board of Managers
wrote that Hornaday had paid what he called “the extreme penalty” for both the
bag limit proposal and the LaGuardia attack. Over the course of three decades
Burnham and George Bird Grinnell wrote often to Hornaday's superiors at the
zoo, arguing that the Director's inflammatory public comments embarrassed their
pubic-spirited, family oriented organization. Burnham must have felt enormous
satisfaction when he learned that his adversary had finally received his just
desserts.
Regardless
of what was rumored at the time, it is open to debate if the seventy-one year
old director was pushed out or retired on his own accord. Nevertheless, Hornaday’s
departure from the zoo did not diminish his voice or dampen his vigorous
opposition to public shooting grounds. The House voted down the migratory bird
refuge bill shortly after LaGuardia's performance. After failing for the second
time to shepherd a favorable migratory bird refuge bill through the Congress, the
gun and ammunition corporations withdrew their funding from Burnham's AGPA. Now
it was Hornaday's turn to feel immense satisfaction at his rival's fall from
grace.
In
January 1928 Senator Peter Norbeck, a progressive Republican from South Dakota,
introduced a migratory bird refuge bill. Hornaday saw Norbeck as an honest
player and wrote to the Senator to inform him that his proposed legislation
based on the principles of the New-Anthony bill, “is not at all the
good-conservation bill that you think it is.” Furthermore, Hornaday appealed to
the senator’s progressivism by declaring in a bit of overstatement that the
public shooting grounds provision would “put the federal government into the
business of founding and maintaining duck-shooting resorts.” Convinced that the
most important feature of the bill was refuge creation, Norbeck responded that
in his bill only 10-30 percent of the refuges would have public shooting
grounds. This mollified Hornaday who accepted it as something of a compromise.
But Hornaday’s adversaries were alarmed by his seeming influence on Norbeck.
Carlos Avery, an ally of Burnham’s, warned the senator to be careful of taking
advice from Hornaday, “because if you do there will be not much left of the
bill.” As it turned out, Avery was right to be concerned. Daily Norbeck
received disheartening letters from all the key players in the wildlife
protection movement expressing vehement support for one provision or another
and casting aspersions on other conservationists. Surprised and exasperated
over such infighting over what he considered secondary issues, Norbeck barked
to Edmund Seymour of the Camp-Fire Club and a staunch Hornaday ally, “I am for
the Sanctuary bill with our without shooting grounds.”
If
Norbeck found the conservationists frustrating to deal with, his colleagues in
the Senate presented additional obstacles. It is beyond the scope of this paper
to examine them in detail, but in the end Norbeck’s bill was amended to
resemble all that Hornaday had wanted. The public shooting grounds provision
and hunting license were struck from the bill. Instead, treasury would pay for
land requisition like any other Congressional appropriation. The revised
migratory bird refuge bill passed the Senate in late 1927 by a unanimous vote,
a fact that Hornaday described in his memoirs, Thirty Years War for Wildlife, as, “an AMAZING MIRACLE.” The bill’s
sponsor did not share Hornaday’s sense of triumph. To the contrary, the former
governor and experienced legislator vented, “I am frankly sick over the whole
situation.” “I have wasted so much effort on this matter and I look upon it as
the biggest failure I have ever been connected with,” he wrote to another.
Norbeck vowed that he would not lift a finger to get a comparable version
through the House.
Hornaday
feared that Burnham and his allies would outflank him in the House by restoring
the hunting license and public shooting grounds provisions in the lower chamber
and then using the conference committee to refashion the Senate bill. Speaking
on behalf of the National Committee of 100 – a lobbying front he formed with
Edmund Seymour after retiring from the Bronx Zoo in 1926 – Hornaday launched
what could only be described as a media blitz in support of the Senate version.
This vociferous campaign throughout 1928 made the Committee into something of an
obnoxious pariah. Even Hornaday's ardent admirer, author Thornton Burgess,
commented that he was "bitterly assailed" for being associated with
such an organization and that "men whom I had long looked up to, and whose
regard and good opinion I cherished, turned against me."
Hornaday’s
fears proved unfounded. The entire conservation movement was too tired and
drained by the long battle to fight anymore over these issues. There remained
absolute consensus on the need for refuges, and the devastating effects of
drainage and drought had only worsened. On February 9, it passed the House
unanimously by a vote of 219-0. President Coolidge signed it shortly thereafter. Within a decade, the migratory bird refuge system
consisted of 85 refuges containing nearly 700,000 acres.
Hornaday
had won an impressive victory against difficult odds, but his success came at a
price. The conflict between he and Burnham, which they both must share blame,
wrecked and exhausted a powerful coalition of scientists, sportsmen, nature
enthusiasts, bird watchers, and urbanites, who had achieved so much working
together, during the progressive era. A decade later President Franklin D.
Roosevelt attempted a grand bargain of sorts to recast the movement. The result
was a duck stamp to pay for land acquisition and a reduction in the bag limit,
among other reforms, favored by Hornaday. Structurally, the administration
sponsored the National Wildlife Federation, which was designed to serve as an umbrella
organization to unite sportsmen and non-sportsmen. Despite these efforts, the
coalition could not be resurrected to resemble its former self and the divide
between these groups, first sharpened during the debate over the Migratory Bird
Refuge Act, echoed throughout the remainder of the twentieth century.