The Oyster Wars: A Real Thing That Happened
A wee history lesson feat. the Dancing Molly Pirate Posse
Happy Friday my favourites,
Today, I have something a little different for you to kick off the month of March. Those among you who are bivalve curious might get a smidge more joy, but I promise this story is just as interesting for those of you who have never heard the word meroir* before.
Let me set the scene
Why did oysters matter enough to have a war? Well, after the American civil war, the global oyster industry exploded. Oysters were a food of the people in the 19th century, not at all bougie, and in the 1880’s, the Chesapeake Bay supplied almost half of the world’s oysters. This came with all the usual suspects of poor environmental stewardship: dredging, dwindling oyster populations, etc., etc.
In 1830, the Maryland General Assembly passed legislation that outlawed dredging (yay environmental stewardship!) and attempted to part the waters, stating that only Maryland state residents could harvest oysters in Maryland waters (somewhat contentious). 35 years later, Maryland doubled down on the oyster industry — which was huge in 19th century— passing a law requiring annual permits for oyster harvesting. This effectively started the Oyster Wars, and started the highly lucrative, highly illegal oyster piracy situation.
An actual Oyster Navy
Three years on, and frankly nobody gives a damn about permits, so the good folks of the Maryland General Assembly found the Maryland Oyster Navy. (Fun Fact: The Maryland Oyster Navy turned into today’s Maryland Natural Resources Police - lots to unpack there.)
When the New England fisherman predictably exhausted (read: destroyed) their own local oyster beds, they started encroaching on the Chesapeake Bay, leading to proper violence between watermen from New England, Maryland, Virginia, and different counties.
These skirmishes were something the Oyster Navy (again, a real thing!) led by Naval Academy graduate, Hunter Davison, was grossly unprepared and completely inadequate to handle considering that often the watermen were way more heavily armed.
In the 1870’s, Virginia decided to step up their game and issue licence fees, seasonal limits, and other completely sensible and reasonable measures to prevent the over-harvesting of their oyster beds. I assume they were simultaneously throwing serious side-eye at New England. Predictably however, the cash-strapped commonwealth couldn’t compete with the pirates, especially after selling it’s 3 vessel maritime police fleet at an auction (great job, Frank. I don’t know that this was anyone named Frank’s decision, but it seems like a Frank thing to do and Frank was the 6th most common name in the US in the 1880’s, so the odds seem pretty decent).
So, after Daft Frank got rid of their 3 boats, which were likely bought by oyster pirates, and violence between oyster tonguers and more affluent dredgers broke out, Virginia straight up banned dredging in 1879.
When armed and organized dredgers, including many from Maryland, said whatever the American equivalent of “Yeah, no” is and violated the ban, Virginia’s Governor William E. Cameron found an opportunity to shine a little light on himself and boost his popularity by taking on the pirates. He personally led an expedition against what I’m going to start calling the Pirate Posse.
Shit went down on February 17th, 1882 — Cameron’s force (a tugboat called Victoria J. Peed and a freighter named Louisa) took on the Pirate Posse at the Rappahannock River Mouth, and their efforts led to the conviction of 41 dredgers and the forfeiture of 7 boats.
So, Cameron’s understandably riding pretty high for a while, but obviously the Posse returned to the bay, and Cameron says “guys, hold my beer. I got this!”
Like most of our inebriated friends, Cameron didn’t ‘got this’.
This is my favourite part
While it would be enough for me to be amused and a bit bewildered that there had been an actual Oyster War, history gives us a special treat in the story of the Dancing Molly.
There was a feisty little sloop pirating that day called the Dancing Molly. While all of the men had disembarked, the Captain’s wife and two daughters were still aboard the ship. When they saw Cameron’s crew approaching, they tried to yell at the fellas to get back to the boat with no success. None of the men could hear them from ashore. So the women, being resourceful, smart, sailing pirates, pulled up anchor and out-sailed Cameron back to their own waters.
According to the Norfolk Virginian of March 4, 1883, spectators along the Virginia shore, though opposed to dredging, “really wished for the safety of the tiny craft when they saw it was simply manned by three women, and when the Dancing Molly got safely out the group of Virginians chivalrously gave three cheers for the pirate’s wife and daughters.”
The opposition press mocked the Governor for being outran by the Dancing Molly. The Norfolk Academy of Music lampooned the whole debacle in an April 1883 comic opera called “Driven from the Seas: or, the Pirate Dredger’s Doom”, which I would 100% pay to see today.
Later, Cameron established a board that improved law enforcement and better fisheries management and things calmed down. The conflict didn’t properly end until an incident in 1959 when the Potomac River Fisheries commissioner, H.C. Byrd, ordered the fisheries police disarmed after an officer killed a Virginia watermen who was allegedly dredging. That’s right: the Oyster Wars technically ended about 60 years ago
It’s also worth mentioning that the pirates did a lot of really bad pirate-y stuff, and I’m not, like, pro-piracy or anything like that. Cameron was aiming for positive change for the area. It just happens that I absolutely love that he was out-sailed by three women on a small sloop.
I leave you with this great little jingle about the Pirate Brides:
But tho’ we licked the Pirates bold,
Their pretty wives and daughters
Cannot be beat by all the troops
That sail Utopia’s watersWith fearless hand they guide the prow
That cleaves the rushing tide.
With both our boats we failed to catch
One single Pirate’s bride!
*meroir is a wanky word for the qualities imbued in oysters by their environment. like terroir for wine, but for fancy mollusks.
If you’re in Toronto and looking to expand your oyster repertoire, check out Island Oysters. You can find this swarthy sea-loving bunch shucking at breweries on occasion or at their location on Bloor near Dufferin where they do shuck-fifty weeknights.
Yarr, have a beautiful month and bon appetit!