Battle of the Official Birds

The state’s ruffled grouse vs. Bucks County’s red cardinal.
By Carl LaVO

Fly, eagle, fly. Being it’s spring, it’s time to discuss official birds. We’ve got one here in Bucks: the red cardinal. The state’s got one, too — the ruffed grouse.

Philly? Ah, no. Sorry, football fans. More on that later. First, let’s take a look at Pennsylvania’s official bird and how it achieved such high-flying status for a ground hugger.

Pennsylvania has been in the “official something” business for quite a while. In 1778, it adopted its official coat of arms featuring two stallions, a sailing ship, three haycocks and birds in flight. The official seal of Pennsylvania was announced in 1778. The Piper-J3-Cub became the official state plane in 2014. The eastern hellbender joined the list as official amphibian on in 2019. (Wonder how my grandchildren would react if I said, “Hey, kids, let’s go find an eastern hellbender.”)

You have to Google the Great Depression to learn when the ruffed grouse became Pennsylvania’s official bird. The General Federation of Women’s Clubs persuaded the General Assembly on June 22, 1931 to give the medium-sized, chunky bird its ranking. Why the ruffed grouse?

Well, it’s prolific and tasty for as long as Pennsylvania has been Pennsylvania. It’s been mistaken for a partridge, though not likely found in a pear tree. It prefers the ground. Ruffed grouse eat flowers, dormant buds, green leaves, fruits, insects and snack on snakes, frogs and salamanders. The avian species is a survivor in extreme cold, unlike pheasants, turkeys and quail. The male ruffed grouse is a polygamist known to aggressively defend woodlands shared with two hens. He proclaims his dominance with a “drumming” display — beating his wings against the air to create a vacuum that sounds like a car motor starting up. The sound is a call to wayward hens to come and canoodle.

The bird is a historic Southern sympathizer. A flock supposedly saved Major Gen. Richard Anderson’s 12,000 Confederate soldiers on the second day of the Battle of Gettysburg. The whirring of ruffed grouse wings diverted Union gunfire, enabling the division to escape. Famed ornithologist John Audubon admired the bird as “particularly graceful. It walks with an elevated, firm step, opening its beautiful tail gently and with a well-marked jet, holding erect its head, the feathers of which are frequently raised, as are the velvety tufts of its neck. It poses its body on one foot for several seconds at a time, and utters a soft cluck which in itself implies a degree of confidence.”

But, what about Bucks County’s official bird?

There are few birds as confident as the red cardinal. Grade schoolers in the county’s 13 public districts obviously knew this when they chose it at the request of county government in 1993. Nicknamed the “Angry Bird,” it’s a fighter. Given George Washington led his troops from Bucks across the Delaware River to throttle the Hessians in Trenton in 1776, choosing a fighting bird seems fitting. Washington also was known for an incendiary temper. Witnesses reported him exploding at a subordinate “…‘til the leaves shook on the trees.”

Some say our official bird is more akin to Donald Trump. It fiercely defends its breeding territory, driving off any intruders with dive beaking and then perches on a favorite tree to chortle away in song about its triumph.

But there’s a gentler side of our gallant cardinal. It symbolizes restoration over great difficulties with the help of a divine spirit. It’s also celebrated as a minstrel of the air. When the female wishes to leave the nest, she’ll announce her intention with a song. On hearing the tune, the male flies quickly back to the nest so Mom can vacation in the south of France. (As it should be, according to my spouse.)

Red-tufted cardinals, named after Catholic bishops, are so pugnacious they fight for hours their own reflection in anything shiny. The birds are mysterious, too. They “ant” themselves. That is, they cover their feathers in crushed or live ants. Why is anyone’s guess. Cardinals also change color by what they eat, like flamingos. Brightly colored berries keep the cardinal’s plumage bright red.

So, let’s backtrack. The state has its bird. So, does Bucks. What about Philly, with no official bird? I called and emailed city hall but no one was talking. My suggestion is the love dove. How symbolic in “the City of Brotherly Love.” Pennsylvania has a state bird. Bucks County has a county bird. How about “love doves” as the official bird of Philadelphia, the “city of brotherly love”?
On second thought, that may be too passive given the many angry birds one is apt to encounter in Philadelphia’s crowded traffic lanes.

None of our neighboring counties seem to have an official bird. I’m thinking Montgomery County should consider the yellow-billed cuckoo, a native breeder. In the current political climate, makes sense to me. Back home, I’m luring cardinals to our holly tree where red berries can brighten their feathers. My thinking is they will feast on nearby lantern bugs threatening our black walnut tree.

Sources include “The Birds of America” by John James Audubon published in 1827, and the Pennsylvania’s State Symbols brochure.
Carl LaVO, a weekly history columnist for The Intelligencer and Bucks County Courier Times newspapers, can be reached at carllavo0@gmail.com