Passaconoway

His Ascent into Heaven

“It was about the middle of February, 1684. From comparative Indian accounts, it was well below zero, with a sky of azure blue and not a cloud to be seen anywhere. Passaconaway had been told to journey to what we now know as Dustin Island, where the wild rushing Contoocook divides that it may quietly enter the Merrimack. With whom he had journeyed hither he did not know and could not remember, for now he found himself erect and alone amidst a circle of glowing coals, whose rising heat gave him perfect protection from the elements.”

“Now well past the century mark, the heavy sinews and muscles of former years shrunken and face much wrinkled, he nevertheless was able to stand erect and with folded arms await the will of the Great Spirit. Presently the message came and in almost though not quite audible tones he was told, “Passaconaway, thy time has come. Watch the southern sky and do my bidding, for thou art speedily to be made ready for the journey to the Happy Hunting Grounds which the Great Spirit prepared for those who have done their best.”

“The message ceased and immediately his eyes, still keen and little dimmed by age, scanned the sky southward to what we now know as Concord. Here there appeared to be very small white clouds, which as he watched intently seemed to be coming northward, following the “River of Swift and Broken Waters.”

“Nearer and nearer they came to his lonely isle at the mouth of the “Silver Stream that Winds among the Hills.” As the clouds drew nearer they grew larger and began to swirl round and round, until to his great delight he saw they were filled with wolves,―wolves, the fastest thing in the forest, and better still, a sweeping count showed one hundred and twenty, the Indian’s idea of the largest wolf pack ever known.”

“In wonderment filled with trust he stood erect and strong, with arms folded as the fires burned low and his own clothing seemed to take on added winter strength. He noticed that the wolves in the clouds were stringing out in great circles, two by two, until with one grand sweep they sped past him before his very eyes.”

“Was this an apparition or was it real? He was to know almost instantly. It took only a few brief moments for the wolves to speed by and come to a sudden stop. Instantly he found before him a magnificent sledge, heavily laden with well curried and finely softened furs of all the animals of forest, lake and stream, he had been accustomed to hunt throughout his long life.”

“No heavenly message was needed now. The wolves were already tugging at their traces anxious to be up and away. ‘Passaconaway stepped on a splendid bearskin mat, the largest and best he had ever known, for was he not “The Son of the Bear?” The softer and finer furs surrounded him with their warmth, and as his left hand grasped the side of the sledge for steadiness, he found a long rawhide whip in his right hand. He had seen the settlers’ use these and had always wanted one for himself. Now his wish was fulfilled.”

“One crack of the whip was the signal, and away they sped over the frozen wastes of the Merrimack, crossing meadows at open rapids or broken waters (falls), but generally following the river northward through what we now know as Boscawen, Franklin, Tilton, Winnisquam, Laconia, and Lakeport to Lake Paugus, named after his grandson.”

“At Arquedahkenash, (The Weirs) it was necessary to slacken speed for here was his last earthly view of the representatives of his people. Out on the ice where the Weirs Station now stands, the brief stop was made, and as he looked upward and to the left, he saw several rows of the spirit forms of sachems and sagamores with whom he had worked so many years. All those on the shore had hands and arms extended high in the air,―the Indian’s sign for “Welcome, brother.”

“He started to address them, but the Great Spirit sealed his lips. The wolves were again tugging at their traces, anxious to perform their task. He had given them a quick glance and then again turned to the left, this time to see the spirit forms of his sachems and sagamores fading away, with the single right arms and hands of each one lifted high,―the Indian’s sign for “Farewell, brother.”

“A small group of former Winnepesaukees now appeared on the shore and this is what they saw. The wolf train with its precious load sped onward over the glassy surface of the lake, so beautifully streaked with windrows of the whitest and purest snow. The speed increased, (we can understand it now as we have seen a modern plane do the same thing) until the watchers on the shore saw them in the air, making straight for Agiococook (Mt. Washington) the highest of the hills.”

“Now but a speck in the sky, they were at the top, and a brief moment of heavenly light such as they had never experienced before, illumined the scene. Here in a brilliant light, between two white clouds they saw their beloved Passaconaway, Greatest Chieftain of the tribes, received into the welcoming arms of the Great White Spirit,―the God of the Indian, and the God of all mankind.”

George Calvin Carter, PASSACONAWAY: THE GREATEST OF THE NEW ENGLAND INDIANS. Granite State Press

Passaconoway

PART 5: SURRENDER TO THE EUROPEANS

In the end Passaconaway knew that his people would be swept away by the advance of the Europeans. Joseph M. Wilson, in his History of Dracut says that, “Up to this time all of the wilderness north of the Merrimack belonged to Passaconaway and his tribes and seeing by this grant that the English were going to claim it all without considering his or their rights” he knew that his people’s ability to keep control of their land was doomed.  Potter in his History of Manchester says, “We hear nothing more of Passaconnaway or his people, till 1660. At that time, being of very great age, he was seen by an Englishman at Pawtucket, who was much conversant with the Indians upon the Merrimack. It is possible that this Englishman was Gen. Gookin. There was a vast assemblage of the Indians at Pawtucket, and borne down with age and cares, the old Sagamon, at a public feast, made a farewell speech to his people.”

” ‘Hearken to the words of your father. I am an old oak that has withstood the storms of more than a hundred winters. Leaves and branches have been stripped from me by the winds and frosts — my eyes are dim — my limbs totter — I must soon fall! But when young and sturdy, when my bow — no young man of the Pennacooks could bend it — when my arrows would pierce a deer at a hundred yards — and I could bury my hatchet in a sapling to the eye — no wigwam had so many furs — no pole so many scalp locks as Passaconaway! Then I delighted in war. The war whoop of the Pennacooks was heard when the Mohawks came — and no voice so loud as Passaconaway’s. The scalps upon the pole of my wigwam told the story of Mohawk suffering.’ ”

” ‘The English came, they seized our lands; I set me down at Pennacook. They followed upon my footsteps; I made war with them, but they fought with fire and thunder; my young men were swept down before me when no one was near them. I tried sorcery against them but still they increased and prevailed over me and mine, and I gave place to them and retired to my beautiful island of Natticook. I that can make the dry leaf turn green and live again — I that can take the rattlesnake in my palm as I would a worm, without harm — I who have communion with the Great Spirit dreaming and awake — I am powerless before the Pale Faces. The oak will soon break before the whirlwind — it shivers and shakes even now; soon its trunk will be prostrate, the ant and the worm will sport upon it! Then think, my children, of what I say; I commune with the Great Spirit. He whispers to me now — Tell your people Peace, Peace is the only hope of your race. I have given fire and thunder to the pale faces for weapons — I have made them plentier than the leaves of the forest and still shall they increase! These meadows shall they turn with their plow — these forests shall fall to their axe — the pale faces shall live upon your hunting grounds and make their villages upon your fishing places. The Great Spirit says this, and it must be so. We are few and powerless before them. We must bend before the storm; the wind blows hard; the old oak trembles; its branches are gone; its sap is frozen; it bends; it falls! Peace, peace with the white men — is the command of the Great Spirit — and the wish — the last wish of Passaconaway.”

According to Wilson, Passaconaway lived out his days “on the Indian reservation at Pawtucket Falls on the north bank of the Merrimack which later became a large part of Dracut.” Potter says he lived north of Manchester in his old ancestral home. Both agree that that he did eventually convert to Christianity as result of the preaching of Rev. Eliot. Potter provides the reliable evidence to back his claims. “It has been supposed that Passaconnawy died about this time, and our historians give no account of him after the time of the delivery of ‘his dying speech to his children.’ But this supposition is erroneous. Passaconaway was alive in 1663, and at the head of his tribe, so his speech of 1660 can hardly be considered his ‘dying speech,’ without some stretch of the imagination.

Passaconoway finding his planting and fishing grounds encroached upon by those having grants from the government of Massachusetts; already deprived of his planting grounds at Natticook where he had planted for a long while; and the legislature having announced their intention to grant his lands at Pennacock whenever ‘so many should be present to settle a plantation there.’—he began to think he soon should not have land enough to erect a wigwam upon.” Accordingly. May 9th, 1662, Passaconaway presented a petition to the Massachusetts legislature which was approved, giving Passaconoway a grant 3 miles square along the Merrimack which included parts of what is now Manchester, Merrimack, Londonderry, Bedford and Litchfield, NH.  The irony of this petition is highlighted by Potter who says, “The record of this grant discloses an important fact. In less than twenty years from the time Passaconaway submitted himself to the colonists, and put himself under their protection, he and his tribe were literally reduced to beggary. The Bashaba of the Merrimack valley, and the rightful owner of all its broad lands, had become a ‘poor petitioner’ and ‘pore supplicant’ for a plantation of pine plains, and did ‘earnestly request the Honored Court to grant two small islands and ye patch of Intervaile’ to him—receiving them doubtless with all due submission and thankfulness, if not humility! Old age, as well as contact with civilization, must have done its work upon the spirit of this haughty sagamon, for him thus to have meekly asked his usurpers to grant him what properly was his own.”

Passaconaway – John Greenleaf Whittier’s Account

PART FOUR

Whittier penned these lines long after the Native Americans had surrendered the Merrimac to the mills, leaving the cruel contrast of industrial bondage, along a river that had once been so free.

1. THE MERRIMACK

O child of that white-crested mountain whose springs
Gush forth in the shade of the cliff-eagle’s wings,
Down whose slopes to the lowlands thy wild waters shine,
Leaping gray walls of rock, flashing through the dwarf pine;
From that cloud-curtained cradle so cold and so lone,
From the arms of that wintry-locked mother of stone,
By hills hung with forests, through vales wide and free,
Thy mountain-born brightness glanced down to the sea.

No bridge arched thy waters save that where the trees
Stretched their long arms above thee and kissed in the breeze:
No sound save the lapse of the waves on thy shores,
The plunging of otters, the light dip of oars.

Green-tufted, oak-shaded, by Amoskeag’s fall
Thy twin Uncanoonucs rose stately and tall,
Thy Nashua meadows lay green and unshorn,
And the hills of Pentucket were tasselled with corn.
But thy Pennacook valley was fairer than these,
And greener its grasses and taller its trees,
Ere the sound of an axe in the forest had rung,
Or the mower his scythe in the meadows had swung.

In their sheltered repose looking out from the wood
The bark-builded wigwams of Pennacook stood;
There glided the corn-dance, the council-fire shone,
And against the red war-post the hatchet was thrown.

There the old smoked in silence their pipes, and the young
To the pike and the white-perch their baited lines flung;
There the boy shaped his arrows, and there the shy maid
Wove her many-hued baskets and bright wampum braid.

O Stream of the Mountains! if answer of thine
Could rise from thy waters to question of mine,
Methinks through the din of thy thronged banks a moan
Of sorrow would swell for the days which have gone.

Not for thee the dull jar of the loom and the wheel,
The gliding of shuttles, the ringing of steel;
But that old voice of waters, of bird and of breeze,
The dip of the wild-fowl, the rustling of trees.

II. THE BASHABA

Lift we the twilight curtains of the Past,
And, turning from familiar sight and sound.
Sadly and full of reverence let us cast
A glance upon Tradition’s shadowy ground,
Led by the few pale lights which, glimmering round
That dim, strange land of Eld, seem dying fast;
And that which history gives not to the eye,
The faded coloring of Time’s tapestry,
Let Fancy, with her dream-dipped brush, supply.

Roof of bark and walls of pine,
Through whose chinks the sunbeams shine,
Tracing many a golden line
On the ample floor within;
Where, upon that earth-floor stark,
Lay the gaudy mats of bark,
With the bear’s hide, rough and dark,
And the red-deer’s skin.

Window-tracery, small and slight,
Woven of the willow white,
Lent a dimly checkered light;
And the night-stars glimmered down,
Where the lodge-fire’s heavy smoke,
Slowly through an opening broke,
In the low roof, ribbed with oak,
Sheathed with hemlock brown….

…Here the mighty Bashaba
Held his long-unquestioned sway,
From the White Hills, far away,
To the great sea’s sounding shore;
Chief of chiefs, his regal word
All the river Sachems heard,
At his call the war-dance stirred,
Or was still once more.

There his spoils of chase and war,
Jaw of wolf and black bear’s paw,
Panther’s skin and eagle’s claw,
Lay beside his axe and bow;
And, adown the roof-pole hung,
Loosely on a snake-skin strung,
In the smoke his scalp-locks swung

Gloomed behind the changeless shade
By the solemn pine-wood made;
Through the rugged palisade,

Grimly to and fro.                                                                                   Nightly down the river going,
Swifter was the hunter’s rowing,
When he saw that lodge-fire, glowing
O’er the waters still and red;
And the squaw’s dark eye burned brighter,
And she drew her blanket tighter,
As, with quicker step and lighter,
From that door she fled.

For that chief had magic skill,
And a Panisee’s dark will,
Over powers of good and ill,
Powers which bless and powers which ban;
Wizard lord of Pennacook,
Chiefs upon their war-path shook,
When they met the steady look
Of that wise dark man.

Tales of him the gray squaw told,
When the winter night-wind cold
Pierced her blanket’s thickest fold,
And her fire burned low and small,
Till the very child abed,
Drew its bear-skin over bead,
Shrinking from the pale lights shed
On the trembling wall.

All the subtle spirits hiding
Under earth or wave, abiding
In the caverned rock, or riding
Misty clouds or morning breeze;
Every dark intelligence,
Secret soul, and influence
Of all things which outward sense
Feels, or bears, or sees,—

These the wizard’s skill confessed,
At his bidding banned or blessed,
Stormful woke or lulled to rest
Wind and cloud, and fire and flood;
Burned for him the drifted snow,
Bade through ice fresh lilies blow,
And the leaves of summer grow
Over winter’s wood!…

Not untrue that tale of old!
Now, as then, the wise and bold
All the powers of Nature hold
Subject to their kingly will;

Passaconaway – Strong Magic

PART THREE

We all are aware of the legends of the Native Americans and how their lives were interwoven with the natural world which surrounded them. Charles Leland in his book The Algonquin legends of New England writes, “…the poetry of nature, has quaint and beautiful superstitions. To every Algonquin a rotten log by the road covered with moss, suggests the legend of the log-demon; the Indian corn and sweet flag in the swamp are the descendants of beautiful spirits who still live in them; Meeko the squirrel, has power of becoming a giant monster; flowers, beasts, trees, have all loved and talked and sung, and can even now do so, should the magician only come to speak the spell.”

“Both before and after accepting Christianity, Passaconaway was famous for his almost superhuman feats of strength and magic. While he performed some of these elsewhere as he went among the tribes from the Winnepesaukees and Ossipees on the north, to the Narragansetts on the south, his best work in this line was done at Amoskeag, where was to be found the perfect setting for all that he desired to accomplish in maintaining his position among the tribes.”

“Many of the things he did seem difficult to explain, but he did them, in full view of both Indians and whites, there is no doubt. Both official and unofficial groups came from afar on divers occasions. Ample testimony to the authenticity of these events was given both verbally and in writing, to the authorities at Massachusetts. One member of an investigating committee reported that he did so with the aid of his ‘Consort the Devil.’ After he accepted Christianity he sought the advice of the Apostle Eliot who advised wisely, in view of his intimate knowledge of the Indian mind, that they might continue so long as he did not ascribe what he did as due to the favor of deity.”

“What did the Amoskeags and their visitors witness at Amoskeag Falls in what is now Manchester? They saw ‘rocks move, trees dance, green leaves in winter, blocks of ice in summer, squirming, harmless adders in winter, frozen fish and frosted branches in summer, and at any season dry leaves curling up and burning in a bowl, without apparent cause.’ ”

“He could seemingly call mists to envelop himself together with all those immediately near him, and to disperse the same mist at will. He would stand erect upon a pile of small dry sticks, have them ignited until he seemed to be a veritable flaming man. The mist would come and when presently it had gone, he would be found calm and unharmed. Reversing the process, the mists would come while there was no fire. Instantly flames would appear, only to have entirely vanished when the fleecy clouds passed on.”

Perhaps the most spectacular feet was accomplished while there were a number of his own and white visitors grouped on the river bank. The mist would come and when it was gone he would be found on the other shore with arms upraised. The watchers would soon be again en-veiled in mist, which soon passed on, when,  Passaconoway would be found coming up the river bank, dripping wet as one just out of the water.” This is similar to the legend told by Charles Leland, who writes, “There are stones in the forest with names on them. They give great power to dream. I have seen in my dreams the m’teoulin of ancient times,—the magicians my father told me of long ago. I have seen them diving under the waters from one island to another. I have seen them, dive ten miles.”

No Indian ever attempted to explain how these things were done. Was not their Passaconaway, greatest chieftain of them all, able to do great things that no other Indian could do? The Great Spirit himself had given him these powers. Why should they inquire? Many a white man who did, received a stern rebuke, as was his due. Among the whites, whether sent officially or as voluntary visitors, there was much verbal and many written explanations, but the fact that almost none of these ‘explanations,’ were like any of the others, is an indication of how well the great bashaba guarded his secrets, which he carried to the grave. It is well, for they served their time and served it well, and helped cement the confidence that existed between the leader and his people.”

William Wood, was one of the original sources of the information which he reported in his New England Prospect, written in 1634. “…their powwows betaking themselves to their exorcisms and necromantic charms by which they bring to pass strange things, if we may believe the Indians who report of one Passaconaway that he can make water burn, the rocks move, the trees dance, metamorphise himself into a flaming man. But it may be objected, this is but deceptio visus.  He will therefore do more, for in winter, when there is no green leaves to be got, he will burn and old one to ashes, and putting those into water produce a new green leaf which you shall not only see but substantially handle and carry away, and make a dead snake’s skin a living snake, both to be seen and felt, and heard. This I write but on the report of the Indians, who constantly affirm stranger things.”

“But to make manifest that by God’s permission, through the Devil’s help, their charms are of force to produce effects of wonderment, and honest gentleman related a story to me, being an eyewitness of the same; a powwow having a patient with the stump of a small tree run through his foot, being past the cure of his ordinary surgery, betook himself to his charms, and being willing to show his miracle before the English stranger, he wrapped a piece of cloth about the foot of the lame man and upon that wrapping a beaver skin through which he—laying his mouth to the beaver skin—by his sucking charms he brought out the stump which he spat into a tray of water, returning the foot as whole as its fellow in a short time.”

Much of the foregoing comes from C.E. Potter in his History of Manchester.

Pasaconoway

PART TWO | ACCOMMODATION WITH THE EUROPEANS | WHEELWRIGHT’S DEED

Imagine that you’re a great chief over a confederacy of Native American tribes. You have lost up to 80% of your people over the past 50 years or so to new and previously unknown diseases. The Europeans keep arriving in increasing numbers, and what was the traditional home of your people is right in the path of the onslaught. You are a shaman with great magical powers, which you have used in an attempt to cure the diseases and repel the Europeans. Nothing has worked, and it is obvious that the Europeans are more powerful than your people in both technology and military might. If this were not bad enough, Native American tribes from the north and west are attacking your people in constant warfare, further threating you and diminishing your numbers. The path that Passaconoway chose toward the end of his life, was an attempt at peaceful coexistence with the Europeans.

The first account of Pasaconoway comes from Thomas Morton, who left America in 1628 and printed the book The New English Canaan, in 1637, in London. In it he gives an account of “Passaconoway and among other curious matters relates the unhappy termination of a marriage between the daughter of Passaconoway and Winneperket, the Sagamon of Saugus. Winneperket and the old Sagoman’s daughter were married, with all the pomp and ceremony becoming their station—of the best blood in the country. Feasting, music, and revelry were the order not only of the day, but of the night, and a chosen band of warriors were sent to accompany the bride to her home, at Saugus, where they were feasted in turn, as became the royal groom. But a sumptuous feast did not make a happy marriage.”

“The young bride, the following spring, desired to visit her father, and Winneperket sent her to her father’s home, with an escort befitting her station. When she wished to return to Saugus, Passaconoway sent a messenger to Winneperket, to send for his wife. This message Winneperket took in high dudgeon, as he thought it insulting to him that Passaconoway, should not return her to him, with a fitting escort. In the beautiful language of Whittier, the Merrimack poet, Winneperket returned for an answer:–

I bore her as becomes a chieftain’s daughter
Up to her home beside the flowing water.
If now, no more for her a mat is found,
Of all which line her father’s wigwam round,
Let Pennacook call out his warrior train.
And send her back with wampum gifts again.
This message enraged Passaconoway, and he refused to send her back.
“Dog of the marsh!” cried Pennacook, “no more
Shall child of mine sit on his wigwam floor.
Go! Let him seek some meaner squaw to spread
The stolen bearskin of his beggar’s bed.
Son of a fish-hawk! Let him dig his clams
For some vile daughter of the Agawams,
Or coward Nipmucks! May his scalp dry black
In Mohawk smoke, before I send her back.”

“And the old Sagamon was as good as his word, for Morton adds that when he left the country, in 1628, she was still living with her father. At this time. Passaconoway was nearly ninety years old, as Gen. Daniel Goodkinkin, who was well acquainted with him, in after years, says he saw him in 1660, when he was about one hundred and twenty years old.”
“On the 17th day of may, 1629, Passaconoway with three subordinate Chiefs, sold the tract of land extending from the Piscataqua to the Merrimack, and from the line in Massachusetts thirty miles into the country, to the Rev. John Wheelright and his associates, for certain stipulated and valuable considerations… While some have pronounced this a forgery, other authentic documents have come to light that show the genuineness of this instrument.”

This transaction was one of importance. It shows that Pasaconoway as early as 1629, was not only chief of the Pennacooks, but that he was a Sagamon at the head of a powerful confederacy, and that this early he had the sagacity to see the superiority of the English, and to wish them as a barrier betwixt his people and their eastern enemies.”
“The deed expressly acknowledges on the part of the chiefs of the Pawtucket, Squamscot and Newichewannock, their being tributary to the Sagamon of the Pennacook; the 7th and last article stipulating that ‘every township within the aforesaid limits or tract of land that hereafter shall be settled, shall pay to Passaconoway our chief sagamore that now is and to his successors forever, if lawfully demanded, one coat of trucking cloth a year.”

“Passaconoway early saw the superiority of the English. And with his usual sagacity he saw the entire hopelessness of the attempts of his people to subdue them. His policy was to make terms of peace with them, and it was in pursuance of this policy that he disposed of his lands to Wheelwright, reserving alone his right to fishing and hunting. It was that he might have the English as protection against his enemies, who since the plague had thinned his people and were becoming a source of terror to them.”

Source: Historian C.E. Potter

Passaconaway

PART ONE

The Native Americans of the Merrimack Valley

Each and every day we live and travel in a place filled with Native American names, and never think about the people who bequeathed us their heritage.

From the late 1500’s though the arrival of the Europeans in 1620, the Merrimack Valley was a type of Eden to various Native American tribes. It all came to an end, because of inter tribal warfare, European plagues that killed upwards of 80-90% of the native population and the overwhelming numbers of European settlers. During this time “the most powerful tribes of the interior, and probably of New England, north of the Pequots, had their residence in the valley of the Merrimack, upon the productive falls and fertile meadows of that beautiful river.” The Merrimack afforded superior advantages for Indian settlements the most prominent being the rapids and falls that provided abundant fishing grounds. Spears, dip-nets, seines and weirs allowed the Native Americans to easily catch myriads of alewives, shad, and salmon. The woods along the banks were filled with moose, deer, and bears and the ponds, lakes and sources or its tributaries were teeming with water fowl.

“In this beautiful ‘Valley of the Merrimack,’ with all these attractions of fertile planting grounds, and abundance of fish, and hunting grounds of unlimited extent…It was the very paradise of Indian imagination.” The tribes along the Merrimack were the Agawam, Wamesit, or Pawtucket, Nashua, Souhegan, Namaoskeag, Pennacook, and Winnepesaukee. One of the largest settlements was located near the current city of Lowell, Massachusetts. “Wamesit, is derived from Wame (all of whole) and Auke (a place) with the letter “s” thrown in betwixt the two syllables for the sake of sound. The Indian village at this place, undoubtedly received this name from the fact that is was a large village where the Indians collected together. This was literally true in the spring and summer, as the Pawtucket falls, near by, were one of the most noted fishing places in New England, where the Indians from far and near, gathered together in April and May, to catch and dry their year’s stock of shad and salmon. Wamesit was embraced nearly in the present limits of the city of Lowell…The Indians in this neighborhood were sometimes called Pawtuckets, from the falls in the Merrimack, of that name. Pawtucket, means the forks, being derived from the Indian word Pohchatuk (a branch.) Pawtucket seems, however, to have been applied by the English, to all the Indians north of the Merrimack, rather than a particular tribe at the falls of that name.” “The Nashuas occupied the lands upon the Nashua and the intervals upon the Merrimack, opposite and below the mouth of that river. Nashua means the river with the pebbly bottom—” “The Souhegans lived lived upon the Souhegan River, occupying the rich intervals upon both banks of the Merrimack, above and below the mouth of the Souhegan. Souhegan is a contraction of Souheganash, and Indian noun in the plural number meaning worn out lands. These Indians were often called Natacooks or Nacooks, from their occupying ground that was free from trees, or cleared land—Netecook meaning clearing. The Namaoskeags resided at the falls of the Merrimack known by the present name of Amoskeag, in Manchester.” Namaske, Namaoskeag, Naumkeag, and Maimkeak, means the fishing place from Namaos (a fish) and Auke (a place.)

Amoskeag Falls after the Native Americans were long gone and industrial development had begun.

The Pennacooks occupied the rich intervals at Pennacook, now embraced by the towns of Bow, Concord, and Boscawen. “They were thus called, from Pennaqui (crooked) and Auke, (place,) the intervals at Concord, which are extensive, being embraced within the fold of the Merrimack, which winds its way along, in a very crooked manner.” The Winnepesaukies occupied the lands in the vicinity of the lake of that name, one of their noted fishing places being at the outlet, now known as the Weirs, the parts of the permanent Indian weirs having remained long after the advent of the whites. “Winnepesaukee is derived from Winne (beautiful) nipe (water) kees (high) and Auke (a place) meaning literally, the beautiful water of the high place.”

“Of these several tribes, the Pennacooks were the most powerful; and either from their superiority, arising from a long residence upon a fertile soil. And hence more civilized; or from having been for a long period under the rule of a wise chief,—and perhaps from both causes united,—had become the head, as it were of a powerful confederacy. It is well known that the Winnepesaukee, Amoskeag, Souhegan, and Nashua tribes, were completely subservient to the Pennacooks; while the Wamesits were so intermarried with them, as to be mainly under their control, acknowledge fealty to Passaconaway, and finally, with the other tribes upon the Merrimack, became merged with the Pennacooks, and ceased to be distinct tribes, in fact or name.”

After the demise of the Native Americans, the rich fishing grounds of the Merrimack fell to the Scotch-Irish and other Europeans until industrial pollution and dams destroyed them.

Source: Historian C.E. Potter, History of Manchester formerly Derryfield

Passaconaway

INTRODUCTION

Passaconaway is an amazing figure in the history of New Hampshire, and more specifically the Merrimack Valley. Since we are taught the history of the Europeans, I would wager a guess, that less than 1% of the current residents of the area have even heard of him. I know, I know, he lived 350-400 years ago, that’s ancient history and doesn’t have any relevance to contemporary times, right? And he was a Native American after all, but his story is so amazing and compelling that he is a person who is worth the time it takes to remember him. His long and noble life deserves our attention.

Passaconaway is said to have been born between 1550 and 1570, and died somewhere near 1679. He lived to be over 120 years old. So he lived through a time of great change. He grew up in a land that was possessed by the Native Americans, when the Europeans were all but unknown. He saw the coming of the Europeans and pondered upon what it meant for himself and his people. He made peace with the Europeans and cooperated with them, and yet, they double crossed and killed members of his tribe and abused his two sons. His cooperation was not simple surrender, it was a well thought out plan to allow the Europeans to plant themselves as a bulwark against his enemies the Mohawks and other tribes who had been attacking his people in constant warfare. He was part of a community that had seen over 75% of his people die of plague and disease. And in old age, he watched as his world was destroyed by the overwhelming power and numbers of the foreigners. In his great prophecy, he councils his people to live in peace with Europeans, because they are destined to inherit the land and because he knew his own people did not have the power to resist.

Passaconaway is the bastardized English version of the chief’s name. “His name is indicative of his war-like character—-Papisse-conewa, as written by himself, meaning ‘The Child of the Bear,’ being derived from Papoeis (a child) and Kunnaway (a bear.) The name he doubtless received at mature age, according to the custom of the Indians, from his supposed resemblance in courage and bravery in war, to that ferocious and powerful animal.” (Potter’s History of Manchester)

The various European accounts of him say that he was a giant, a genius and possessed magical powers. The fact that accounts say he was a giant and a magician is very interesting, because of the obscure but well documented evidence found in the nineteenth century, in the mounds and burial places of the Native Americans, that giants lived among them. The findings and archeological evidence was suppressed by the Smithsonian Institute and others at the time of their discovery because the existence of giants didn’t fit their paradigm. So maybe, the legend of Passaconaway, his magical powers and intelligence was more truth than fiction and came by way of a “giant” ancestor, whose DNA still coursed through his veins.

Passaconaway was the sagamore or sachem (chief) of note among the Pennacooks and other tribes who lived along and near the Merrimack River in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. Later, he became the “Bashaba” (chief of chiefs) of many diverse tribes whose sachems were subject to him.

Finally, you should appreciate Passaconaway because you owe the very legal claim to your home and land in Windham, to him and the other sachems, who deeded it to the Rev. John Wheelright and his associates, on May 17, 1629. Forty years after his death, when the Scotch-Irish arrived in Londonderry, in 1719, there were only a few Native Americans roaming the area and only slight traces of Native American culture left….their best growing fields and dwelling places having been coveted and appropriated by the Europeans.

Magic Lanterns

Magic Lantern Slide of Butterfield’s Rock in Windham

“Imagine yourself back in the Victorian period, say in 1895, just before the birth of the movies.  Suppose you wanted to go out for an impromptu evening’s entertainment.  What would you do? The chances are you’d go to a magic-lantern show, or, as we Americans often called them, a “stereopticon show.”  Magic lantern shows were the combination of projected images, live narration, and live music that the movies came from.  They were incredibly popular 100 years ago…In 1895, there were between 30,000 and 60,000 lantern showmen in the United States, giving between 75,000 and 150,000 performances a year. That means there would have been several shows a week in your county.” (victoriana.com)

“A magic lantern consists of seven functional sections: the lamp, reflector, condensing lens, lens tube, body, base, and smokestack.  The lamp is the sole source of illumination, which often came from burning oil or gas, a burning piece of calcium, or later, electricity.  The reflector reflects the light from the lamp toward the condensing lens, which focuses the light onto the slide being projected.  The lens tube serves to magnify the illuminated slide, so that projected images from 6 to 12 feet wide can be obtained.  The body is often made completely of metal, and houses all of the previous components except the lens tube.  The base lifts the magic lantern above the surface of a table.  This is important because the body will become intensely hot from the illuminating lamp, and the base helps to prevent table burns.  Finally, the smokestack serves to vent the smoke coming from the lamp, so that the smoke doesn’t accumulate inside the lantern and put out the fire.”

“Hand-painted or photographic glass slides are inserted horizontally between the condensing lens and lens tube, through metal runners at top and bottom.  A skilled projectionist can move them quickly, and if the slides contain images of progressive motion, the projected image will appear to move.  Some slides can create complex, constantly moving displays, demonstrating that the magic lantern is not simply a still image projector.”

Butterfield’s Rock

Butterfield’s Rock Windham NH

Origin of the Name

100 YEAR AGO IN WINDHAM

“WINDHAM FEBRUARY 14.— “The popular clamor for preparedness appears to be about one-third genuine scare over the hallucination that Germany is coming over to gobble us up, one-third attempt to make political capital by discrediting the present administration, and one-third desire to stimulate certain lines of business for selfish pecuniary reasons.” (So the military industrial complex celebrates 100 years.)

“We couldn’t help being amused at two contiguous items in a recent paper, the first stating that a jury had awarded a man damages of $1900 for the loss of some fingers in a machine, while the second stated that another man was awarded $275 by a jury in the same court for the loss of his wife, who had been enticed to leave him and take up her abode with another fellow.”

“Butterfield’s rock, one of the natural curiosities and noted landmarks of the town, has been known by that name for nearly two hundred years. (300 years now.) In the Londonderry Proprietors’ Records under the date October 29, 1723, occurs this record: ‘Laid out by order of the town a farm Given in the Charter to Mr. David Cargill Junior containing one hundred acres of land lying and being to the south west of the rock called Butterfield’s rock.’ It apparently took its name from a Jonathan Butterfield, of Chelmsford, to whom there was laid out one hundred acres of land , June 8, 1721. This land, however, was not near the rock, as it was west of Beaver brook. August 30, 1728, he again received ninety-eight acres, but its location is not clear. Morrison’s History of Windham says that Butterfield owned land in Londonderry, perhaps including the rock, before the coming of the Londonderry settlers in 1719. When Dracut, first settled in 1664, was incorporated in 1701, its bounds included the south part of what is now Windham, and the settlers of Dracut and Chelmsford used to pasture their cattle in the wild lands and meadows here. They burned the woods in the south part of town to improve the pasturage. The northeast corner of Dracut as first laid out, was apparently near Spear hill, east of the southern end of Cobbett’s pond. From there the line ran northwest four miles to the Dunstable line near Beaver brook somewhere in the region of West Windham, from there running south by the Dunstable line about four miles to near Jeremy hill in Pelham. The bounds of Londonderry when incorporated in 1722 overlapped this Dracut line, and it was not until 1741 that the line between Massachusetts and New Hampshire was definitely settled, substantially as at present. Windham was set off from Londonderry in 1742. There is an old path, still usable running through the woods from near Butterfield’s rock southwest to near E.A. Haskell’s which has always been called the ‘Dracut road.’ It would be interesting to know more than we do of the early days to which these old names carry us back.”

GOULDINGS BROOK: In doing research for this article, in the History of Dracut, I came across the following interesting information about early place names which were known before the Windham was settled by the Scotch-Irish. “In 1682, the Negus grant was purchased by Peter Goulding of Boston, who sold it the same year but, very singularly, the tributary of Beaver Brook still retains the name of Goulding’s brook, sometime corrupted to ‘Golden.’ …the grant covered the land between the two brooks at their junction, and extended nearly to the Moody Hobb’s farm on the road from Pelham Center to Windham…”

Some additional information about early place names in Windham include the following: “With the exception of he small grants to Caldicot and Negus, the latter called Goulding farm, all of the territory north of the tracts described was reserved land and was laid out in lots. They were usually located with reference to certain natural features such as Goulding’s Pond, Goulding’s Brook, Ledge of Rock’s Pond and Distracted Meadows. The latter were partly in the Gage Hill district and partly over the Windham line. Goulding’s Pond is in Windham and is called Cobbett’s Pond. It is one of the sources of Goulding’s brook which flows into Beaver brook near Pelham center. Ledge of Rock’s Pond has been called Goulding’s but is now Simpson Pond. “ (And now Moeckel Pond.) “ Morrison says the, “brook is call Golden or Golding’s Brook, tradition says, is so called from the fact that that an ox by that name died upon its banks at an early date. This was at the time when Chelmsford and Dracut people used to turn their cattle into the neighborhood in spring to get fresh grass and to browse during the summer. They also set forests on fire to kill the wood, so that the grass would grow more luxuriantly, and in early days the hills in that part of town were black with the burned and dead trees caused by these devastating fires. A Mr. Golding (Goulding) owned land in the vicinity. This undoubtedly gave it its name.” It also appears that there was a Deer Jump on the banks of the Merrimack River as well as on Moeckel Pond in Windham.

As for Butterfield’s Rock, it is no doubt named for Benjamin Butterfield or one of his descendants. Benjamin was one of the first settlers of Chelmsford, MA., in 1653. He would have likely turned his cattle out in wilderness that is now Windham.