Chapter 14
Spring Duck Hunting in the 1800s
Those of us fascinated by the history of hunting and fishing in Wisconsin owe a debt of gratitude to the sportsmen of yesteryear who diligently kept records of their activities. It was a relatively common thing to keep logs or journals of activities at the deer camp, and some well-known historical deer camp journals exist. They provide important insights into attitudes and hunting methods of seasons long past. The tradition of the deer camp itself—the desire to keep track of numbers and size of animals killed—provided a powerful incentive for journal keeping.
Not very common were journals of other sporting or hunting activities. And this is why the journals kept by Louis McLane Hobbins in the late 1800s and early 1900s are unique. Hobbins was an incredibly passionate waterfowler from the Madison area, and his hunting logs provide details of every duck and goose he and his primary hunting partner, his cousin Russell “Jack” Jackson, killed.1
Aside from chronicling early waterfowl hunting, some other aspects of Hobbins's journals set them apart from others. Hobbins began his journals at the age of thirteen and continued them for more than twenty years. The nature of the era and bygone traditions such as spring waterfowling are recorded in them.
Hobbins's and Jackson's hunting grounds were the duck- and goose-rich marshes of the Madison chain of lakes around the dawn of the twentieth century. Hobbins's journals began in 1888 and went through 1912. Hunting ended for the year when winter blizzards and iced lakes terminated the autumn hunts, but it began anew as the lakes began to thaw.
February always found Hobbins making scouting trips to the “shanty” (probably on Lake Mendota) to search for the first arrivals of geese or ducks. Lots of ice and few birds were usually what greeted him there.
When the weather finally cooperated, hunting began in earnest in March and continued though April up to the end of the Wisconsin spring waterfowl season, generally early May.
The anticipation of a springtime waterfowl hunt is something foreign to today's sports enthusiast, whose ethics and the law dictate waterfowling be done in the fall of the year. However, Hobbins began waterfowl hunting at a time in American history when there were few regulations regarding the taking of wildlife. Although Hobbins was a recreational hunter, his era was that of the market hunter, the man who used any means possible to kill wildlife, including ducks and geese, to be sold for profit.
The excesses of market hunting began to take their toll on waterfowl numbers by the early 1900s. The Lacey Act of 1900, which banned the interstate shipment of game taken illegally, was targeted at the market hunter. However, it was the Weeks-McLean Act that really set the stage for effective waterfowl hunting regulations, including the end of springtime hunting. This law, which became effective in March 1913, gave authority to the federal government to protect and manage migratory birds.
Although Hobbins diligently made entries for every day afield, the entries typically weren't lengthy—usually just brief comments about the weather, the number of birds in the air, and the take by species.
The entry for April 19, 1897 reads:
Wind started in the morning out of the S.E. then S.W. and swung around to North with snow. Best duck weather of the season but no birds. All have gone north. Only got 11 bluebill.
However brief, Hobbins's entries provide a wealth of insight into the past glory days of duck hunting in Dane County. The perception of “no birds” even after bagging eleven ducks—near twice the average yearly bag of today's Wisconsin duck hunter—tells volumes about waterfowl numbers of the time.
Hobbins was as organized and accurate as he was diligent. He organized one volume of his journals into categories, providing a table of contents of sorts. Each spring and fall season was indexed with the journal page provided, as were “accidents” and “red letter days.”
The red-letter days, fourteen of them over the course of eleven seasons covered by one journal, were the hunts that really stood out in Hobbins's mind because of perfect duck weather, high numbers of birds flying, and numbers taken. The red-letter days provide a real glimpse of the era.
Bird takes include those shot by both Hobbins and Jackson, as the two formed a hunting “partnership” on March 1, 1892, when Hobbins was seventeen years old:
Red-letter day, April 17, 1892:
Good shooting. 65 bluebill, 1 butterball and 1 winterduck.
Red-letter days, April 1–6, 1894:
Was good cold duck weather. We only shot 3 days and got 113 ducks mostly pintail, widgeon with a hen redhead, canvasback, bluewing teal and mallard. Could have killed hundreds of mallards but would not shoot being the marsh was simply alive with them.
Red-letter day, April 8, 1895:
We had a good day April 8th. Rainy cold day with howling north wind. Shot from 11:30 till about 12:30 and got 62 then quit on account of the rain. The next morning there was not a bird around.
Red-letter day, April 10, 1897:
A regular old duck day. Wind N. East shifting to S. East South with snow and sleet. We got 77 bluebill. This beats our record ducks in a day by 2. If we had stayed in our blinds all day we could have gotten a hundred but I have been sick and we had to go back to the cabin for something to eat.
While Hobbins and Jackson didn't hunt every day of the spring season, the pattern of Hobbins's journal entries show they probably did hunt every day they could get free during the season, but mostly around the weekends. During the season of the spring of 1892 they hunted seven days from April 11 to May 7 and totaled 254 ducks. This season included the one red-letter day when 67 ducks were taken. On another day 36 bluebill were taken.
From time to time Hobbins would provide a detailed cost accounting of his waterfowling pursuits. For the spring season of 1892 he reported total expenses to be: “Shot $2.08, Powder $2.10, Shells $2.40, Wads $1.20.”
So in the spring of 1892, during a waterfowl season that lasted from March 1 to May 1 in which Hobbins and Jackson killed 254 ducks, Hobbins's total expenses were $7.78. It was money well spent to be sure.
The journal table of contents entries for “accidents” references four pages. Of the four accidents documented in the journal, three involved mishaps with boats in cold water during fall hunting seasons.
For example, the entry on November 7, 1892, reads, “Russell and myself capsized in my hunting boat lost 300 shells and had to dive for our guns in 5 feet of ice cold water then had to row 5 miles to the farmhouse with waves going right over us that was about the worst we have had yet but sporting life is hell.”
Hobbins and Jackson were never the worse for the accidents, but a brief entry in October of 1892 referred to something deadly serious:
1 bluebill. The gentleman who went with me shot himself at 11:30 am and died at 6:15 pm. This is the last time that Russell and myself take anybody shooting with us.
The clipping from a Madison newspaper taped to the next two pages of the journal gave the details:
A very sad accident occurred on the north shore of Lake Mendota yesterday, and as a result the dead body of Ralph G. Cole, a student in the state university, now lies in a room at the state hospital.
The October 8, 1892, newspaper account went on to report how Cole had taken the train to Mendota Station along with Hobbins on Friday evening, and Cole, Hobbins, Jackson, and some other friends had duck hunted the following morning. Cole had left the party to pack up for a return to Madison before noon. He had returned to the farmhouse of Hans Brickson on the lakeshore and had pulled his shotgun out of the boat by its muzzle. The trigger caught on the runner of a hand sled placed in the boat for a seat, and it fired into Cole's abdomen, mortally wounding the college student.
Hobbins and Jackson were still hunting on the lake when the accident occurred, but they were quickly summoned to the farmhouse. Word of the accident soon reached Madison by telegraph, and school friends of Cole's as well as several doctors boarded the next train for Mendota Station. Despite the doctors' best efforts, Cole passed away in the early evening with Hobbins at his side.
“Louie, I am going, good-bye,” were his last words.
The spring duck season was closed in Wisconsin from 1900 to 1902, and Hobbins made no journal entries. Entries began again in the spring of 1903, but they were becoming even briefer than before. Hobbins was now into his thirties, and although it seemed he attempted to hunt at every opportunity, other life activities were probably demanding more time. The last year Hobbins kept a record was 1912.