With the advent of the summer visitor the picket fence has enjoyed a popular renaissance and they look very much at home around old or reproduction Cape cottages. When June arrives the fences form a handsome background for the multitude of climbing roses that tumble over them in colorful cascades. The summer people have also made frequent use of the split-rail fence which was certainly used on the early Cape but never as widely as some other types. Over on the North side there were bothersome, but handsome, field stones which, as the land was cleared, were built into rambling walls, adding so much to the charm of that area. As the nineteenth century grew old and the land was secure, and the Captain’s prosperity was being felt in the villages, it became time to indulge in tidying up and beautifying the stark simplicity of earlier times. Then the mansions became more ornate and so did the fences. You can see them all over any village, particularly on Main Street, such as the very beautiful wrought iron fence that surrounds the Captain Obed Baker mansion in my own village of West Dennis. The elaborateness of the fences became as much a symbol of the wealth and importance in the community of the owners as did the houses, themselves. Fortunately, all of them somehow managed to retain a standard of good taste and authentic Cape Cod flavor which makes them both suitable and attractive. What had become something ornamental had once been extremely useful, which may explain the frequency with which you will see a fence on village streets. “Good fences make good neighbors” is not a Cape expression! With husbands and sons out on the broad Atlantic, or only God knew where, there was no inclination on the Cape to discourage neighborliness. Far from being a defense against neighbors, the Cape fences were primarily built as a barrier to four-footed intruders. For in the old days beef and lamb and pork products were delivered to the villages “on the hoof”. Large droves of cattle and swine were regularly driven through the village streets, all the way down Cape. In each of the villages the butcher would select his purchases and then the herd would be driven on until the last animal was sold. The route and estimated schedule of such drives would appear in the Register columns some time in advance in order that the towns could be made ready to receive them. It must have been a day of great excitement when the swirls of sand, rising from the outskirts of the village, heralded the approach of a drive of pigs or cattle that would soon be passing through Main Street to the accompaniment of the shouts of the drivers and the delighted whoops of small boys who were the unofficial escorts of the herds through town. Without a doubt there were anxious moments for the home-owners along the way who could be grateful for the sturdy fences that stood between the pushing, shoving animals and their prized flower beds and vegetable gardens.