Albany’s bird-named roads date back over 200 years — and birds are only half the story.
On the corner of TD Bank on State Street, an unassuming plaque gives a clue: “EAGLE ST., FORMERLY DUKE ST.”
Hawk Street, Swan Street, Dove Street — an eagle-eyed observer might notice a pattern to some of the roads in Albany. As it turns out, the story behind these streets gives a bird's-eye view of Albany's early days.
The city's arrangement reflects the many cultures that shaped it.
Broadway and State Street were imprinted upon existing Mohican pathways; a tight, semi-circular cluster around this intersection reflects the walls of Fort Orange, a 17th-century Dutch settlement.
But beginning where State intersects Eagle, an asymmetrical layout gives way to a symmetrical grid.
Kathryn Kosto, the executive director of the Albany County Historical Association, said that this reflects the era of “planned cities.”
“This is an expression of neoclassicism," she said. "The idea that orderliness, architecture, and surveyors would lay out cities.”
This grid, stretching west of Eagle Street, was first established during the mid-18th century. Following the end of the French and Indian War in 1763, Albany took down its stockade. Anticipating westward expansion, the city laid out a neat grid in 1765. Four of the streets were named for royalty: Duke, King, Queen and Prince. Many were named after French and Indian War heroes.
After the American Revolution, the city wanted to wash its hands of these connections.
So, in 1790, Albany’s Common Council renamed these streets after something more palatable: animals.
12 streets running north-to-south were named for birds, intersecting with 10 streets named for mammals running east-to-west. Queen became Elk, King became Lion, and Prince became Deer.
“The idea that they needed to invent something new is absolutely seen in the mapping and orderliness that they're imposing on a very layered and, in some ways, chaotic landscape of the past," Kosto said. "I think the idea of something new — this is a new nation, we have our own identity. New branding, if you will; mapping was branding of the time.”
Albany City Historian Tony Opalka said there’s no way to know for sure why these animals were chosen.
“There's no explanation as to why they chose those particular names," Opalka said. "It's kind of an interesting question, but I have no idea what the answer is, because there's no background in the council minutes. They just say this is what we're going to call them from now on.”
Kosto, on the other hand, had a few ideas.
"One reason could be practical," Kosto said. "In the same way one might give quintuplets all names starting with 'M,' the council might have simply needed many names, and chose animals as a theme."
Most of the population at the time was illiterate. Names like Dove and Wolf were short, easy to remember, and accessible.
The names may also have had to do with contemporary ideas about nature.
“This is the era of scientific exploration, the creation of herbariums, a lot of natural history museums. The Albany Institute is from this era," Kosto said. "The idea of systematically studying nature and imprinting nature upon living grids, basically mapping areas. So, I think it's just this orderliness.”
This style of unilateral planning reflected the power dynamics of the time.
The 1790s were a period of rapid population growth in Albany. City governance wanted to ensure these new settlements were well-laid-out, safe, and easy to tax. The area the grid was imposed upon wasn’t densely settled, and the people living there didn’t hold much power.
“Why just go ahead and name these areas? Let's look what's here: Albany County Penitentiary, Alms House. These are poor areas," Kosto said. "So these are areas that their idea is, 'let's just get this under control. Let's get this map. Let's get this laid out.'”
Kosto said a sort of “development mentality” drove the city’s planning of what wasn’t exactly viewed as “prime real estate."
“This is really the heyday of surveyors, the idea of laying out our ever-expanding state, and there's a lot of territory from their point of view to cover," she said. "Now, of course, this is Mohican-Mohawk land, but that settlement is not really taken into consideration."
"There are arguments that art historians and cartography historians make that the idea of mapping is a way of control," she added.
Kosto said this planning wasn’t all bad because having a neatly laid grid promoted public safety and made streets easier to locate.
“It does make sense to get well-run, clear, and paved roadways in Albany," she said. "It improved everyone's lives.”
Most of the streets named after birds have retained their original names — you can still walk down Dove, drive down Lark, or pass by Hawk. A few streets were changed from one bird to another. Robin used to be Duck; Quail used to be Turkey.
The streets named after mammals, however, didn’t fare so well.
Tiger became Lancaster, named after a nearby school. Buffalo was made an extension of Hudson Avenue. Wolf became Madison, and Lion became Washington. Elk Street is the only mammal street that still has its original name.
Opalka said it all makes for a fun bit of history.
“I don't know if it's unique to Albany, but it certainly is something that is pretty amusing," he said. "It's something that I think is kind of character-defining, in a way.”
Kosto said that as the oldest chartered city in North America, Albany and its streets serve as a footprint of history.
“Why are there such angled intersections? Why are some areas laid out so evenly? As you just drive a quarter mile or a half mile, you're going to see these very, very different areas," she said. "When we literally drive along the roadways, we explore. We encounter history.”