Once a fairly obscure Southern side dish, hushpuppies have now become a menu staple in seafood restaurants across the United States. From The Fish Box in Seattle, where they accompany fried halibut, salmon, and catfish, to The Mermaid Inn in New York City, offering them as a side with corn and chile remoulade, these crispy fried cornmeal orbs are gaining national recognition. Even barbecue joints outside the South, like R&R Barbecue in Salt Lake City, are starting to include hushpuppies alongside ribs and brisket.
Hushpuppies alongside ribs and brisket at R&R Barbecue in Salt Lake City, Utah
Of course, in the Carolinas, hushpuppies have been a beloved companion to fried seafood and barbecue for decades. This region proudly claims to be the birthplace of this iconic American food. A hushpuppy is a simple delight: a thick cornmeal batter, shaped into spheres, nuggets, or fingers, and deep-fried to golden brown perfection. But the origin of its quirky name, “hushpuppy,” is where the real mystery and intrigue begin.
Debunking the Myths Behind the Name
Over the years, many culinary enthusiasts and historians have attempted to explain the unusual name “hushpuppy.” These explanations range from whimsical to downright absurd. Let’s explore some of the most common, yet ultimately inaccurate, stories.
The Fishing Dog Story
The most frequently told tale involves fishing trips. According to this narrative, anglers returning to camp would fry their catch over an open fire. The enticing aroma would cause their dogs to bark and howl in anticipation. To quiet their noisy hounds, the cooks would fry up bits of cornmeal batter and toss them to the dogs, telling them to “hush, puppies!” While charming, this story lacks historical backing and raises questions, like why hunting dogs would be brought on fishing trips in the first place.
The Civil War Canine Command
Given the South’s rich history, it’s no surprise that some link the hushpuppy’s origin—like many other Southern dishes—to the Civil War. This version replaces fishermen with Confederate soldiers. The story goes that Confederate troops, cooking dinner around a campfire, would hear approaching Union soldiers (Yankees). To prevent their barking dogs from revealing their position, they quickly fried cornmeal cakes, tossed them to their dogs, and commanded, “hush, puppies!” This narrative, while adding a dramatic historical context, is also largely unsubstantiated and leans heavily on romanticized notions of the Civil War era.
The Plantation “Mammy” Myth
Another theory, rooted in the antebellum South and plantation life, suggests a different origin. This account, often found circulating online without a clear original source, claims that thrifty plantation cooks would use leftover catfish dredging in the “slave quarters.” Though cornmeal was supposedly scarce, other ingredients like dairy were plentiful. These cooks, often depicted as enslaved women, would add milk, eggs, and onions to the cornmeal batter and fry it.
Pre-internet versions of this story often incorporate racist stereotypes. In a 1947 syndicated column, Clementine Paddleford cited W. W. Pierson, Dean of the Graduate School at the University of North Carolina, who offered a particularly problematic explanation. Dean Pierson claimed that the aroma of frying cornmeal batter would attract “hungry children and half-starved dogs” who would whine for food. “Softhearted Mammies,” according to this account, would then give out the fried cornmeal cakes, saying, “Hush childies, hush puppies.” This version not only perpetuates harmful stereotypes but also lacks credible historical evidence.
Hushpuppies are menu fixtures at seafood restaurants like Leon’s Oyster Shop in Charleston
The French Ursuline Nuns Conjecture
Finally, some Eurocentric theories attempt to credit the hushpuppy’s invention to French culinary influence. This theory points to Ursuline nuns who arrived in New Orleans in the 1720s. Supposedly, these nuns, faced with using cornmeal from Native Americans, created a batter which they shaped into patties called croquettes de maise. This recipe then supposedly spread across the South and, inexplicably, became associated with hushing dogs, mirroring the other unsubstantiated stories.
It’s important to note that none of these widely repeated stories are supported by historical documentation from the 19th century or earlier that refers to fried cornbread as “hushpuppies.” Instead of relying on these charming but baseless tales, a deeper dive into history reveals a more compelling and authentic origin story.
The Real Origin: Romeo Govan and Red Horse Bread
The true story of hushpuppies begins along the banks of the Edisto River in the Midlands of South Carolina, around the turn of the 20th century. It involves a dish initially known not as hushpuppies, but as “red horse bread.”
This name wasn’t about the color or feeding horses. “Red horse” referred to a type of fish, a common catch in South Carolina rivers alongside catfish, bream, black bass, and shad. These fish were central to large social gatherings known as fish fries, popular events along the riverbanks.
In the early 1900s, Romeo Govan, an African American man, emerged as the undisputed king of the Edisto River fish fry. Born into slavery in the 1840s, Govan and his wife Sylvia settled near Cannon’s Bridge, east of Bamberg, after Emancipation. Initially a farmer, Govan began hosting fish fries for local clubs and political groups to supplement his income. By the early 20th century, he had built his “club house,” a venue with a swept yard where guests could feast on various fish dishes. His signature accompaniment? A dish the Augusta Chronicle described in 1903 as the “once eaten, never-to-be-forgotten ‘red horse bread.'”
Red horse bread originated along the banks of the Edisto River in South Carolina (mogollon_1 via Flikr under CC BY 2.0)
A few years later, a Bamberg Herald correspondent revealed that Govan’s famous bread was “made by simply mixing cornmeal with water, salt, and egg, and dropped by spoonfuls in the hot lard in which fish have been fried.” Despite the simple ingredients, accounts from the time emphasize the remarkable and novel deliciousness of Govan’s red horse bread.
“Ye gods and little fishes!” exclaimed the Bamberg Herald writer. “This was a new bread to the writer, and so delicious, that I beg lovers of the finny tribe to try some.” By 1908, Govan was hosting fish fries almost daily during fishing season, attracting guests “ranging from governors, attorney generals, bishops, down to the candidates for coroner, etcetera,” as the State newspaper reported. The gratuities he received allowed him to purchase his land outright by 1910.
Romeo Govan passed away in 1915, but his culinary legacy lived on. Red horse bread became a staple at South Carolina fish fries. It’s highly likely that Govan himself coined the name, as its earliest mentions are linked to his events. By the 1920s, red horse bread was common at fish fries throughout Bamberg, Orangeburg, and Dorchester counties. By World War II, it had spread as far west as Greenwood, and even today, some older South Carolinians still refer to hushpuppies as “red horse bread.”
From Red Horse Bread to Hush Puppies
While red horse bread flourished in South Carolina, similar fried cornmeal creations emerged in Georgia and Florida, but under a different name: “hushpuppies.” Fishing columnist Earl DeLoach noted in the Augusta Chronicle in 1940 that “‘Red Horse’ cornbread is often called ‘Hush Puppies’ on the Georgia side of the Savannah River.”
The term “hushpuppy” surfaced sometime in the 1920s, after Romeo Govan’s red horse bread had already gained renown. In 1927, the Macon Telegraph mentioned “hushpuppies” being served at a church fish fry in Macon, Georgia. By the early 1930s, they were appearing at political rallies in Florida, such as a 1931 event at Wakulla Springs that featured “hush-puppies” alongside mullet and other fish fry delicacies. The quotation marks around “hush-puppies” in these early accounts suggest the name was still relatively new and not universally known.
The unusual name quickly captured the attention of tourists visiting Florida from the North on fishing trips. A 1934 travel article in the Harrisburg Sunday Courier described a stop at Joe Brown’s fishing camp near Orlando, where the author enjoyed fried fish, French fried potatoes, “and a delicious cornbread concoction which Brown called ‘Hush Puppies’.”
Soon, recipes for hushpuppies began appearing in national publications like American Cookery and Boy’s Life. In Boy’s Life, National Boy Scout Commissioner Dan Beard shared the “famous recipe” of Mrs. J. G. Cooper, an “expert on hush-puppies” he met in Key West. Her recipe, calling for white stone-ground cornmeal, eggs, baking powder, and salt, emphasized frying the batter in the same pan as the fish, linking the flavor to the fish fry tradition.
The Absurd Conjecture: Etymological Roots
The various dog-related origin stories for “hushpuppy” fall into what could be called “absurd conjectures.” This term, borrowed from the Oxford English Dictionary‘s dismissal of the barbe-a-queue (beard to tail) theory for “barbecue,” describes explanations based purely on the sound of a word, rather than historical evidence.
The earliest attempt to link “hushpuppy” to dogs appeared in a 1933 Associated Press story about the cotton harvest in Mississippi. The writer, describing a post-harvest meal of fried fish and “hushpuppies,” explained them as “a step-child to a corn pone.” The article claimed, “Years ago when the hounds and the puppies would whine for food, the folks would toss them a bit of home-cook bread. The puppies would hush, so they called the bread ‘hushpuppies.'”
Later writers embellished this simple explanation. In 1939, a Capital Times reporter in Wisconsin attributed the invention to a Florida cook who, frantic to silence whining dogs while frying fish, made corn cakes to feed them and then discovered they were delicious. This basic idea was then further embellished with Civil War soldiers or plantation “mammies” to create more “Southern” narratives.
However, the term “hush puppy” existed long before it was applied to fried cornbread, and it had different meanings. Originally, “hush puppy” was slang for silencing someone or covering up wrongdoing. A 1738 London magazine described corrupt port officials in colonial Ontario playing “the Game of Hush-Puppy” to distract from smuggling. This usage continued into the 20th century, with newspapers in the 1920s criticizing “hush-puppy methods” in the Teapot Dome scandal.
Even within the realm of food, fried cornbread wasn’t the first “hush puppy.” As early as 1879, “hush puppy” was a nickname for gravy or pot liquor. A San Antonio Herald article mentioned “hush puppy gravy” at a Texas Rangers’ breakfast campfire. In 1899, a Spanish-American War soldier described army breakfast including “hushpuppy.” A 1912 Washington Evening Post story featured a cowboy cook who could make “hush-puppy” as well as biscuits.
This gravy “hush puppy” wasn’t given to dogs, but it was said to quiet another kind of “dog”—hunger pangs. In 1915, Senator H. H. Casteel of Mississippi explained that “‘pot-liquor’ in his section was known as ‘hush-puppy’ because it kept the ‘houn’ dawgs’ from growling.” The “hounds” here were metaphorical, representing a rumbling stomach.
It’s more plausible that “hush puppy,” when applied to fried cornmeal, was initially a humorous euphemism for something that quiets a growling stomach, especially while waiting for the main course of fried fish. This “stomach-hushing” theory is a more logical and less “absurd conjecture” than the dog-silencing stories.
Going Deep: The Innovation of Deep Frying
Southerners had been frying cornmeal in various forms—corn pone, johnny cakes, hoe cakes, corn dodgers—since colonial times. However, red horse bread/hushpuppies represented a 20th-century innovation: deep frying.
Older cornmeal breads were pan-fried in a shallow layer of fat. Red horse bread and hushpuppies, in contrast, were deep-fried, cooked in a vessel filled with enough hot oil or fat to fully submerge and cook the cornmeal orbs evenly on all sides.
Deep-fat frying became more popular in the late 19th century, coinciding with the wider availability of deep cast iron pans and affordable frying fats like lard, peanut oil, and early shortenings like Cottolene.
Deep-fried cornmeal balls were initially called other names—”wampus” in Florida, “red devils” and “three finger bread” in Georgia—but “hushpuppy” became the dominant term. After World War II, it surpassed “red horse bread” even in the Carolinas.
By the 1940s, hushpuppies had moved beyond outdoor fish fries to become staples at “fish houses” along the Carolina coast, catering to beachgoers and tourists. Inland, they became fixtures at “fish camps” along Piedmont rivers, where mill workers would have their catch cleaned and fried for dinner.
From fish camps, hushpuppies migrated to Piedmont North Carolina barbecue restaurants. Warner Stamey, a legendary figure in Lexington-style barbecue, played a key role in popularizing them as a barbecue side. His son, Keith Stamey, recounted that his father likely adopted hushpuppies from a fish camp called the Friendly Road Inn in Greensboro.
Warner Stamey, inspired by a local fish camp, popularized hushpuppies as a barbecue side item
Kennedy’s Barbecue in Greensboro advertised “Barbecue, Brunswick stew, slaw and hush puppies” as early as 1949, even before the Friendly Road Inn opened. Regardless of who first combined them, hushpuppies quickly became the perfect complement to barbecue and red slaw in North Carolina.
Going Big Time: Commercialization and National Spread
Hushpuppies’ reach extended far beyond the Carolinas thanks to the entrepreneurial spirit of a North Carolinian. After World War II, Walter M. Thompson Jr. owned Thompson’s Fireside, a fish house and tourist camp in Swansboro, North Carolina, advertising “The Home of the World’s Finest Shore Dinner.” He began selling a ready-mix hushpuppy batter, Thompson’s Fireside Hushpuppy Mixture, combining cornmeal, flour, and seasonings – “Just add water,” the label proclaimed.
Thompson had grand ambitions. In 1947, he put his restaurant up for sale to fund “Hushpuppy Industry.” He named his company The Hushpuppy Corporation of America and secured distribution deals across the South.
His major breakthrough came in 1948, partnering with John R. Marple & Co. of New Jersey for national distribution. Marple & Co. advertised Fireside Hushpuppy Mix on radio and in newspapers nationwide. The product’s packaging, reflecting the era, featured a stereotypical image of an African American woman in a red headscarf.
Advertisement for Thompson’s Fireside Hushpuppy Mix (Richmond Times Dispatch, May 6, 1949)
Local Carolina newspapers were amused by the idea of selling hushpuppy mix to “Yankees.” The Anderson Daily Mail quipped, “We have just never thought of Carolina hushpuppies . . . as being commercial propositions” but praised the “enterprising gentleman” from Swansboro. The Greensboro Daily News echoed this sentiment, asking, “Why didn’t we think of that?”
By 1949, the Wilmington Star-News reported Thompson’s Fireside Hushpuppy Mix was sold in every US state and even shipped internationally, including to the US ambassador in Norway.
Thompson sold The Hushpuppy Corporation of America in 1949 to investors from Jacksonville, North Carolina, who expanded production. Their mix remained popular until around 1970, when House-Autry Mills acquired the company. House-Autry, now based in Four Oaks, North Carolina, still sells its Original Recipe Hushpuppy Mix with Onion nationwide.
Back on the Horse: Reclaiming the True History
The true story of hushpuppies, while less sensational than dog-silencing myths, is far more interesting and historically grounded. It reveals the dish’s evolution from “red horse bread” at South Carolina fish fries to a nationally recognized side dish.
The prevalence of inaccurate, stereotypical origin stories highlights the tendency to romanticize Southern food history with tropes of plantations and the Civil War, often overshadowing the real contributions of individuals like Romeo Govan. Hushpuppies are a product of the 20th century, and the story of Romeo Govan, who popularized them and achieved prosperity through his culinary skills, deserves to be remembered.
Perhaps it’s time for Carolina restaurateurs to honor this history and consider reclaiming the original name: red horse bread, the “once eaten, never-to-be-forgotten” delicacy that started it all.
