"Oyster Wars" of the lower Chesapeake Bay
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The "Oyster Wars" of the lower Chesapeake Bay, waged by Virginia's
Governor William E. Cameron from 1882 to 1883, were some of the more spectacular
events in an ongoing war between the government of the Commonwealth and the
"lawless" oyster dredgers of the Chesapeake Bay. But unlike other
Chesapeake oyster "wars" of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries,
these skirmishes were not border disputes between Maryland and Virginia
watermen. The events which took place during Cameron's term as governor
(1882-1886) occurred well within Virginia's boundaries. What would drive a governor of Virginia to personally lead an assault against oyster dredgers in the chilly waters of the Chesapeake? Part of the answer lies in Governor Cameron's personality. He liked to give a good show, whether in action or in speech, and probably drew inspiration from his acquaintance with Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain) while the two worked together on a steamboat in Missouri in 1859. But political concerns drove Cameron as well. The support of both black and white working- class men was essential to political reforms proposed by Cameron during his 1882-1886 term as governor. The explosion of the oyster industry in Virginia following the Civil War led to an increased emphasis on legislation that would protect the underwater wealth of Virginia from overuse as well as from exploitation by "foreign" interests - "foreign" meaning anyone not Virginian. Sources reported "foreign" dredgers operating just a few miles north of Hampton Roads near the Rappahannock River. |
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| The Second Oyster War.
And so the Second Oyster War began. At 4 P.M. Tuesday afternoon, February 27,
1883, a lone tug left the Boston wharf in Norfolk, headed north. Although no one
remarked on it at the time, witnesses would later recall its departure in detail
and speculate accurately that its mission was to warn the dozens of illegal
dredgers operating in Virginia waters that the governor was again developing an
itchy trigger finger. Later that evening, Governor Cameron, again assisted by
General Groner and Captains Gilmer and Nash, readied the Norfolk Guard and the
Light Artillery Blues for another go at the pirate dredgers. The news came as a
surprise to many of the militia, some of whom were watching the musical Virginius
that evening when they received orders to report for duty. However, at 10 P.M.
the two companies marched fully equipped from their armories to the Boston wharf
where they, along with representatives of the New York Herald, the Norfolk
Evening Ledger, and a stowaway from the Norfolk Virginian embarked on
the steamers Pamlico and the trusty old Peed. Their objective:
Smith's Point near the mouth of the Potomac River, where numerous dredgers had
been operating illegally for the past several months. In fact, it had been
rumored that many of those so engaged were "some of the parties whom he had
captured on the previous expedition and pardoned after they had been sentenced
to the penitentiary." In the Norfolk Virginian of February 28, 1883,
Cameron vowed that "he was determined to enforce the law, and that he would
see that on this occasion that there was no escape should he succeed in
capturing any of those now engaged in violating the laws."
The two steamers left together at midnight, but the Peed stopped at the wreck of the Treadwell just a few miles up the Bay as a ruse. The Pamlico continued north, and in an eerie replay of the previous expedition, ran into rough weather just three hours into the trip. Around 3 AM the Pamlico, which carried no ballast, began pitching violently. According to the Norfolk Virginian of March 1, 1883, the main cabin was in turmoil, where "colonels, generals, privates, civilians, swords, chairs, bayonets, blankets, spittoons, coal scuttles, &c., were tumbled about and mixed together fearfully." The after cabin fared worse when "a violent lurch of the Vessel overturned a red hot coal stove and scattered the burning coals everywhere." Captain Gilmer and Lieutenant Lee threw the offensive stove overboard, but not without injury. Both Lee and a private of the company received burns from the hot coals. To make matters worse, many of the men began to get seasick. It was an inglorious start to the mission, and the presence of so many members of the press guaranteed that every embarrassing moment would be captured in print. Although sources had reported fifty or sixty dredgers operating off of Smith's Point, when the Pamlico arrived just before 8 A.M., there were only eight oyster schooners in sight. The lone tug from Norfolk had apparently accomplished its mission. Though disappointed, the captain directed the Pamlico to bear down on the fleet, which immediately began to scatter. Upon their flight, the men on the Pamlico opened fire with musket and cannon, and though the men armed with muskets "had a picnic [they] didn't bring any gore." In all, "Twenty-four cannon shots were fired and some 300 musket shots....[but] No vessel was hit, though some close shots were made." None of the oyster schooners fired back, and only one was captured. The Palo Alto out of Criswell, Maryland was unable to outrun the Pamlico, although her captain and mate escaped into Maryland waters in a row boat. The frightened seven-man crew surrendered without incident. |
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| The Pirate Brides.
The crew of the Dancing Molly was not so complacent. When the Pamlico
came upon the little craft "lying close in one of the inlets on the Eastern
Shore," it appeared as though no crew members were on board. Thinking to
take the unmanned craft as a prize, the crew of the Pamlico bore down
upon the vessel. The vessel, though unmanned, was not unwomanned. The captain's
wife and two daughters were still aboard, and when their cries for help went
unheard by the crew on shore, they unreefed the sails themselves and made their
escape. As the Pamlico raced to block the mouth of the inlet the Dancing
Molly strained at its sails to escape. The women were "equal to the
emergency." All three "were skilled in handling the sails and were
determined not to be taken." Despite solid shot flying past them, the three
women continued on their way and reaching the open waters of the Bay, easily
escaped into Maryland waters with a stiff breeze behind them. 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." Meanwhile, the Peed, with Governor Cameron, General Groner, and a stowaway newspaper reporter on board, had captured five Onancock schooners peacefully, with no shots fired. The vessels were turned over to Accomac County authorities and the prisoners were remanded to Mr. Sands Smith of Mathews County for questioning. The Peed returned to Norfolk around 9 PM Friday, March 2, and because she had no "pirates" on board or in tow, the crowd was disappointed. However, the "good people of Norfolk...received the gallant outfit who had risked their lives in order that their countrymen might for all time revel in the luxury of 'stewed, fried, steamed and on the half shell.' |
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The Press.
The presence of the press on board the two steamers during the "war"
turned the whole event into a spectacle. Unlike the first expedition, which had
been considered a success in the press by all but those enraged watermen of the
Eastern Shore, the second expedition became a joke, and both the press and the
public began to assault Governor Cameron's character from all sides. The
stowaway Norfolk Virginian reporter was likely the one responsible for
these attacks. His eyewitness reports left out none of the embarrassing details
that differentiated the otherwise identical second expedition from the first.
Excerpts from these articles made their way into other Virginia newspapers and
inspired writers across the state. The Lynchburg Advocate published an
editorial poem lampooning the raid, while a Norfolk poet wrote and performed a
lighthearted musical entitled Driven From the Seas: or, The Pirate Dredger's
Doom which was received well by the audience that attended its single
performance in early April 1883. The play related the story of how King
Artaximinous Kameron of Utopia sent out troops armed with hardtack, cod-fish
balls, and barrels of rum to capture the pirate Rappahannock Bill. The king and
his court persuade the pirate to quit his "dredgeful trade" and join
their ranks. The pirate agrees in song:
Given different circumstances, Cameron's oyster wars might only have warranted a footnote in Virginia's late nineteenth century history. Had there been no press on board during the second expedition in 1883, public censure of Cameron might not have been so great. But Cameron's impetuous personality led him to allow the stowaway reporter to remain on board, and he even invited other reporters to join him. The results were disastrous, and Cameron became an object of derision in the press following the second expedition. While Cameron was able to later reinstate an "oyster navy" in Virginia waters through the work of the Board on the Chesapeake and its Tributaries in 1884, his popularity had faded, and with it the possibility of continuing in power. Cameron's oyster wars were not the first such "wars" waged on the Chesapeake, nor would they be the last. Both Maryland and Virginia have retained "oyster navies" or bay patrols until the present day, in order to maintain law and order among watermen. But not since the 1880s has a governor of Virginia manned the artillery in the name of preserving peace on the Bay. |
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'Twas off the Rappahannock (sung to the tune of "'Twas off the Blue Canaries"). From James F. Duncan, Driven From the Seas: or, The pirate dredger's doom: to the surviving "bottle-scarred heroes" of the late oyster war this little travesty is respectfully dedicated. (N.p., 1883)
From the Mariners' Museum, Norfolk Virginia |
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