Made In America - Bill Bryson [68]
Indian names frequently evolved into forms that disguised their native origins. Kepaneddik became Cape Neddick. Norwauk transmuted into Norwalk. The arresting Waycake Creek, New Jersey, grew out of Waakaack, while Long Island’s Rockaways had their origins in Rackawackes. Moskitu-auke became, almost inevitably, Mosquito Hawk. Oxopaugsgaug became the jauntily accessible Oxyboxy. No Man’s Land island in Massachusetts commemorates not some forgotten incident, but is taken from an Indian chief named Tequenoman. The list goes on and on. Ticklenaked, Smackover, Pohamoonshine, Poo Run, Zilly Boy and countless other resonant place names are the result of the confusion or comic adaptability of early colonial settlers.
Non-Indian names likewise sometimes underwent a kind of folk evolution. Burlington, Delaware, was originally called Bridlington, after the town in Yorkshire.7 Newark is a shortening of New Ark of the Covenant. Teaneck was a folk adaptation of the Dutch family name Teneyck. Newport News has nothing to do with news; it was originally New Port Newce and named for the Newce family that settled there.8
Although Indian names occasionally were lost in this process – as when Cappawack became Martha’s Vineyard or Mattapan was turned into Dorchester – for the most part Native American names have proved remarkably durable. You have only to cast an eye over a map of the United States to see how extraordinarily rich its heritage of Indian names is. In his classic study Names on the Land, George R. Stewart notes that ‘26 states [now 27; Alaska has been added since he wrote], 18 of the greatest cities, and most of the larger lakes and longer rivers’ all owe their names to the Indians.9 The sentiment is true enough, but the specifics demand some qualifying. For one thing, many ‘Indian’ names were never uttered by any Indian – Indiana being the most obvious example. Oklahoma was a word coined in Congress. It employed Choctaw elements but not in any way ever used by the Choctaws themselves. Wyoming was taken from a sentimental poem of the early 1800s called ‘Gertrude of Wyoming’, commemorating a massacre. The poem was so popular that communities all over the country were given the name before it was applied in 1868 to a Western territory in which it had no linguistic relevance. Idaho, even more absurdly, had no meaning whatever. It simply sounded to nineteenth-century Congressmen like a good Indian word.
Indian town names, too, often arose not out of any historical connection, but under the impulse of the romanticism that swept the country in the nineteenth century. All the many Hiawathas owe their existence not to the Mohawk chief but to the poem by Longfellow. The great Seminole chief Osceola never went anywhere near Iowa, but there is a town there named for him. Even when an Indian place name has some historical veracity, it was often applied relatively late. Agawam, Massachusetts, for instance, took its place on the map two hundred years after the nearby town of Ipswich did.
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