Codfish in Cape Cod lore

Explorer Bartholomew Gosnold first named Cape Cod In 1602. He was looking for sassafras because it was thought to cure social diseases. Glad there were lots of fish here; one would hate to think what he might have called it.

From earliest times, the cod was the staple around which life revolved. Cape Codders never had to worry about going hungry if they ate seafood, and cod was an easy fish to salt and keep. Prior to the Civil War, 90% of Cape inhabitants had jobs that were of a maritime nature, and the cod occupied a prominent place.

One 19th century sea chantey that sailors everywhere sang was about Cape Cod. Chanteys helped sailors on board to work together. This one was about Cape Cod lifestyle and it covered all ages. It reflected life down to the basics and the ability to make do with very little. It wasn’t always a flattering portrait.

Girls on the Cape had a couple of stanzas written about them in this chantey.

Cape Cod girls don’t use combs
They comb their hair with codfish bones
Cape Cod girls don’t wear frills
They’re plain and skinny like codfish gills.

 The boys escaped more easily.
Cape Cod boys don’t have sleds
They slide down dunes on Codfish heads

Were cod really large enough to use as sleds? Remember these fish had been salted and dried, not fresh cut. The largest cod on record was six feet, but the average is usually between two and four feet. The best explanation – “head” rhymes with “sled.”

Cod and cooking were closely allied in this chantey.
Cape Cod women don’t make pies
They feed their children codfish eyes.

The men’s verse dealt with their occupations.
Cape Cod men have no sails
They sail their boats with codfish tails.

Cod fish was part of health:
Cape Cod people have no ills
Their doctors give them codfish pills.

Did your parents ever tell you that cod liver oil was good for you? Think, did you ever see them take it? Maybe they knew how cod liver oil was obtained.  In olden days, the oil came from cod livers that were allowed to rot. Both brown and pale oil were acquired this way; doctors tended to prefer the pale oil as it didn’t upset the bowels. In the 1850s, a new way was found –creating a liver slurry and fermenting the oil. Today, it’s a trade secret process – and you probably don’t want to know the secret.

With Cape Cod being famous for fishermen, it’s obvious that the cod would occupy a major place in it. A fishing vessel could use up to 900 bushels of salt, which gave rise to a large saltworks industry on the Cape, especially after a Dennis man showed how to create salt from sea water by evaporation.

There is even a cod dish called Cape Cod Turkey. It’s really salt cod served with potatoes, eggs and cream sauce. Author Mark Kurlansky, in his book titled “Cod” wrote:

“The origin of the name “Cape Cod turkey” is obscure. It has come to mean cooked fish; more specifically, baked stuffed codfish well larded with salt pork. One explanation of the term centers about Thanksgiving. The traditional food for that day was, and still is, turkey. Turkey meant thankfulness to God for his bounty. However, without the fishing industry the colonists would have had very little to be thankful for. Then too, the Irish in and around Boston used the term ‘Cape Cod turkey’ to refer to their Friday meal of fish. Fish, and particularly salt fish, seemed to taste better if it bore the aristocratic name Cape Cod turkey.”

Salt cod sold in little wooden boxes was popular up into the years after World War II, but has slowly lost popularity. Breakfast is now far more than the traditional codfish cakes and beans.

Everybody in Massachusetts recognized the cod as being special. Our state called this fish the Sacred Cod. A five foot wooden carving of it hangs in state house in the House of Representatives chamber. This carving is not the original. A 1747 fire consumed the first one. The second disappeared during the American Revolution. Did it make its way to England along with Governor John Bradford’s book? Bradford’s was “rediscovered” in the 1850s in the Bishop of London’s library at Fulham Palace and first published in 1856. The cod wasn’t with it. The third one is the one seen in the House of Representatives today. The moniker “Sacred Cod” was given to it in 1895 by a House committee appointed to “investigate the significance of the item.” In 1933, it was “Cod-napped” by Harvard students.  Later, it was briefly taken by students from UMass Boston, trying to “one-up” Harvard.

The cod also made a brief appearance on Massachusetts license plates. In 1928, the cod was embossed under the numbers, but to many it looked like a pregnant guppy. There were so many complaints that it was decided not to put it on license plates again. However, the 1929 truck plates already had some stamped on them, frugality won out, and they were issued. But that was the cod’s last stand on a license plate.

Cod might become scarce, but will always be the symbol of our state, part of our maritime heritage, and what makes our state and Barnstable county so very special. 

Excerpted from an article by HSOY Historian Duncan Oliver.

Yarmouth Port in Victorian times

Life in Yarmouth Port between 1850 and 1900 had a flavor all its own. The population of the entire town in 1885 was 1,856 and social life was very important.  Visiting friends and neighbors was a daily routine.  During this time Yarmouth Port was considered to be the area between Barnstable town line on the west and on the east the North Side School, which is now the present sight of the fire station. Locals called this “upstreet.” Freeman Howe’s field was an area located behind the fire station and used for large celebrations. It is now part of Clipper Ship Village.  

Lyceum Hall was originally constructed in 1848 and was home to many public lectures, meetings and other events; a community center. It was a very popular spot for shows, music and social affairs, most of which were followed by refreshments and dancing to “expand minds and refine and elevate taste.”  The price of admission was usually 10¢ and if it was a show of professional actors or musicians 25¢. At some dances you could pay one price to dance or just watch for a lower price!

One noted performance was a group of young ladies appearing at the Hall as the Broom Brigade doing routines with their brooms and ending with a farce called “Champion of her Sex.” Afterwards, a few hours of dancing was enjoyed by all. An invitation was extended to every person in town who enjoyed dancing, to participate in the sociability of Thanksgiving night at Lyceum Hall where Kenney’s orchestra furnished the music. The Hall was destroyed by fire in 1880 and quickly replaced by the present structure at 206 Old King’s Highway, now a private home. 

Another community gathering place was the New Church with organ recitals given by Charles. A. Clark or later, Benjamin Hallett. Short plays were performed followed by ice cream and cake.  Admission was 10¢. In the 1880s and 1890s there was an explosion of clubs everywhere and Yarmouth was no exception. Whist clubs, music clubs, political organizations, religious societies, service clubs and temperance groups, literary and historical clubs were all active. Something for everyone! 

It wasn’t all fun and games, but people created a busy lifestyle for themselves and a feeling of community.  Daily chores included bringing in firewood, caring for livestock, laundry done by hand, cooking, cleaning, caring for children and more. Depending on the season there was berry picking time, cranberrying and preserving of food such as fruit, sweet pickles and citron. Cod was salted and dried. To prepare a house for cold weather, seaweed was often piled around the foundation as insulation.

In the winter women had sewing circles and held meetings with readings and music. Popular games were Eucher, a card game that introduced the Joker into the deck and Halma, a game similar to Chinese Checkers. The young people would go ice skating on Dennis Pond.  They would build a bonfire and skate by moonlight, one of the pluses of a clear winter night, or go sleighing.

After a snowstorm men would have to shovel a path to the animals, wood pile and privy; walkways to churches, stores and schools were cleared by hand. Streets needed paths wide enough for the horse and buggies and were also shoveled by hand or compacted by a large roller drawn by a horse. 

In August of 1889, the inside fixtures of T. T. Hallet’s new drug store was fitted and the counters and showcases arranged - it was the town’s new pharmacy.  Other stores along the street included Crocker’s store at Willow Street, Zenas Snow’s dry goods store, Soranus Hall’s meat market, B. T. Gorham’s shoes and boots, and a harness maker.

The simplicity of rural life and the pace it set in Yarmouth Port changed at the close of the century.  Introduction of conveniences such as the telephone and radio, automobiles and macadam roads speeded up the daily routines of Yarmouth Ports citizens and tourism brought many visitors to our little town, creating a whole new industry and way of life.
(Excerpted from an article by Pat Tafra)

Rumrunners and Prohibition in Yarmouth

Donald Trayser, noted Barnstable historian, called rumrunning the last age of maritime commerce in Barnstable County, which enlisted schooners, steamers, launches—especially fast ones—in a spectacular enterprise of daring seamanship and human greed. The bays, inlets, and rivers became ideal ports for the cargoes of prohibition. In early days, liquor carried by the rumrunners was packed in wooden boxes. Later, it was packed in straw inside burlap bags. 12 one-quart bottles would fit in a sack. This made it practically indestructible and easy to handle.

Many tactics were used by Cape Codders running the alcohol from the rum line to shore. Some sent phony distress calls to get CG to another area and then ran out to mother ship and back. Other vessels produced a heavy cloud of black smoke by mixing and burning kerosene and motor oil on the hot manifolds of their engines, making the boat hard to follow. If the Coast Guard got too close, coils of rope with a section of 2x4 tied to one end were thrown off the stern in hopes of fouling Coast Guard propellers.

The mid-Cape area was a favorite landing place of the Boston syndicate. Capt. Manny Zora who sometimes worked for them often unloaded their liquor on the bay shores of Cape Cod. There were some favored spots. The freezer plant at Central Wharf in Yarmouth had recently shut down and gone bankrupt -no wonder that traffic was often heavy on Wharf Lane late at night. Gino Perera recalled, “I remember early one morning in 1922, a friend and I were launching our skiff at Wharf Lane near the Freezer Plant to row to Sandy Neck for some duck shooting. Although it was still dark, we could easily see a rumrunner at the wharf of the Fish Freezer plant. It was a big boat, 75 feet, a former navy subchaser. It was unusual for them to come in; they usually stayed offshore and sent the stuff in by a small boat. We were uneasy about being there, but we weren’t disturbed. They could come in to the wharf because of the deep channel dredged for the freezer plant fishing boats.” Perera further recalled, “I was out duck shooting that day, although all we got was one Brant, one Black Duck, and one Double Eagle Rye. I still have the bottle, sealed in a secure can.”

The town landing on Wharf Lane.

Bass Hole was another area to unload liquor. Local resident Sam Thacher told Haynes Mahoney, “There’s one thing I want to show you.” After some loud noises of moving boxes in a back room, he returned to display a long, heavily sealed oblong tin, rusted about the edges but still shining. The rye whiskey was made by Distillers Corporation, Limited, of Montreal, Canada. “And this is the kind of bottle inside,” he said, showing me a square frosted bottle, empty, with the same label. “I picked them up from the marsh at Bass Hole.” Coming home late one day in 1929, his brother asked him where he had been. “Get the truck and let’s get down to Bass Hole fast.” A motor launch had run afoul of the tides and got stranded near Lone Tree Creek. To escape the law, its crew had dumped its cargo—cases of the above whiskey—and it floated up Bass Hole and the other creeks in the marshes. Sam got 11 cases which he stored in the attic, and he sold it for $50 per case. His wife disapproved of the whole shenanigan, and Sam felt uneasy every time the State Police passed by. Years later, when having his house renovated, workmen found a few bottles hidden away—of which this full one is the last. He gave it and an empty bottle to the Historical Society of Old Yarmouth as a relic. Both are still part of the collection, one still full and the other empty.

Sam’s Double Eagle Rye.

Bray Farm was actively used by the rumrunners. They supposedly buried some of their goods around the farm. When the barn was renovated, guns and pistols were found in the walls. The men used to stick their guns in the frame of the walls to have them ready at hand.

Sandy Neck was a busy place during this time. Margaret Rourke wrote “During the prohibition years, 1919-1933, Sandy Neck was involved in many ways with rumrunners. And Coast Guard playing hide and seek along its shores while “mystery men” were ensconced in some of the cottages at the Neck colony. The Sandy Neck kids used to play “spy” on them, then shake in their sneakers for fear they’d been seen and would get their feet put in cement and thrown overboard. Actually, they were quite safe and became good friends with CG242 that visited regularly.” [The CG242 was a 75 footer called a “six bitter”. 203 were built for service during prohibition.]

The Casa Madrid was an elegant Yarmouth speakeasy that served rumrunners’ liquor. Of Spanish architectural style, it boasted a 40 foot mahogany bar. Many of its patrons were wealthy and influential citizens, and it advertised in the Boston newspapers. It was rumored that the town officials of Yarmouth tended to look the other way. During one raid on the place, a visibly stiff Mayor Curley of Boston was pushed out through a window by his bodyguards and rushed off so he wouldn’t be apprehended. In a final raid in 1933 pandemonium ensued inside as the patrons tried to make themselves scarce. More than $5000 in gambling money and several thousand dollars worth of liquor were taken as evidence. The Casa Madrid did not reopen as a speakeasy.

Casa Madrid, South Yarmouth

Even with the end to prohibition in 1933, stories continued which tied Cape Cod to this lawbreaking time. In the 1970s, a leg bone was found under floorboards during the remodeling of one of inns on 6A in Yarmouth. Some speculated it was from a rum-running deal gone bad. For those interested in learning more about this era, a good book to read about one specific rumrunner’s life is The Sea Fox, by Scott Corbett, published in 1956. It’s the story of Captain Manny Zora, who ran a rumrunning fishing craft from Provincetown and is available in many local libraries.

Excerpted from an article by Haynes Mahoney, Jack Braginton-Smith & Duncan Oliver.

Sharing Some History

We can’t wait to share some interesting Yarmouth and local history with you on these pages. Our first post will be up tomorrow morning, March 18th. Stay tuned!