National Geographic Magazine/Volume 16/Number 3/Geographic Names in the United States and the Stories they Tell
GEOGRAPHIC NAMES IN THE UNITED STATES AND THE STORIES THEY TELL
By R. H. Whitbeck, New Jersey State Normal School
THE geographical names of a country tell much of its history. Each race that inhabits a region gives its own names to mountains, rivers, and lakes, or adopts names previously given. A stronger people may, in later centuries, destroy or drive out every member of the earlier race. The latter may hand down no written sentence of its own history, yet some record of the race will be preserved in the geographical names which survive. The Romans were not able to vanquish the Britons. Comparatively little of Roman civilization penetrated the British Isles. The fact that the Roman "conquest" was little more than a military occupancy is attested by the geographic names which the Romans left, most of which terminate in -caster or -Chester, from the Roman military word castra, a camp. Each wave of invasion—Roman, Angle, Danish, Saxon, or Norman—left its story in the names which it gave, and which remain like the stranded boulders of a glacier long since melted away.
The varied history through which different sections of the United States have passed is told in the varied nature of its geographic names. The red man built no cities in whose ruins we may read the story of his past, for the Indian was not a builder. He has left no roads or fortresses or castles; his methods of warfare called rather for a forest trail and an ambuscade, and these leave no ruins. Were a traveler to examine every valley and hill, every pass and ford and mountain from Maine to Florida, he would now find few traces of the red man in any material thing which survives him. But on every hand he would find the record of Indian occupancy in the names of rivers, creeks, and lakes in which the red man fished and on whose shores he camped and hunted and warred. The mountains seem to have had little attraction for the Indian, and it is seldom that a mountain bears an Indian name. The red man cared little for the bays and inlets along the coast; he made little use of the offshore islands; hence it is that among the hundreds of local names given to islands and bays along the coast of America one seldom meets an Indian word. But the streams and lakes were the Indian's delight. On their surfaces or along their banks most of his time was spent. Along their sides ran his trails and on their shores stood his villages. Every considerable stream and every lake had its name. When the pale face came he found the lake and the stream already named. When he traded with the dusky brothers for his furs or when he bargained for his land it was convenient to employ the geographical terms already in use by the Indian. Sometimes the white man gave the river or lake a new name, as did Hudson and De la Ware and Champlain, but oftener he accepted the original, and today the most frequent reminder that we have of the unfortunate race is the hundreds of Indian names, mostly of rivers or lakes, sometimes of cities, counties, and states, named after the tribes that dwelt in the vicinity.
The extent to which the early settlers adopted Indian names differs widely in different parts of the country. Twenty- four rivers of Maine, 17 out of 28 rivers of Connecticut, 40 rivers in Georgia, 32 in Florida, and most of those of Penn- sylvania, New York, Ohio, and Indiana have Indian names. In Kentucky, Ten- nessee, and the large majority of trans- Mississippi States Indian words are much less common than they are east of the Appalachians. For example, only 7 of Tennessee's 30 important streams carry Indian names, and not one large stream wholly in Kentucky and not one in the great State of Montana has an Indian name.
Next after rivers lakes remind us most frequently by their names that the red man once dwelt by their waters. Hundreds of New England lakes, particularly of Maine, most of the important lakes of New York, and 4 out of the 5 Great Lakes tell of the Indian. Even in those states where rivers and lakes most generally bear Indian names the political divisions, the mountains, and the shore features do not. Only 2 of the original 13 states, Massachusetts and Connecticut, and 3 of the mountain states, Arizona, Utah, and Wyoming, have Indian names, while 16 of the 18 Mississippi Valley states have such names. The two exceptions are Wis- consin and Louisiana, both of French origin.
Of the 150 cities in the United States with 25,000 or more people less than a dozen have names of Indian origin. In most cases where states, counties, or cities bear Indian names they have borrowed them from rivers or lakes which already bore them. New York has 20 counties with Indian names, and leads all of the states in this particular. Six out of the 16 counties of Maine have Indian names; but aside from Maine and New York Indian words form but a very small proportion of the county names in the United States. In the geographical names of Indian origin the differences in tribal dialects are everywhere striking. The horrible words of the Russian language do not differ more widely from the soft, mellow language of Italy or France than do the Indian names in northern New England from those of New York. Indian words in Connecticut differ radically in sound from those of New Jersey, and those of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida differ equally from all others.
Contrast the unspeakable names of the lakes of Maine with the delightfully euphonious names of the lakes of New York:
Maine New York Chesuncook Seneca Pamedecook Owasco Motesentock Otsego Molechunkemunk Onondaga Moostocmaguntic Cayuga Mallawamkiag Cayuta Cauquomogomoc Oneida
Again note the difference in sound of the words from different parts of Connecticut :
Mashapaug Housatonic Pistepaug Mystic Wangumbaug Niantic Waremaug Scantic Pomeraug Willimantic Quinebaug Yantic
It is evident that the above words tell of very different dialects, and hence of different tribes. The characteristic terms found in New Jersey and in Virginia, for example, tell a similar bit of history:
New Jersey Virginia Musconetcong Chickahominy Hopatcong Mallapony Pohatcong Potomac Watchung Rappahannock Minnisink Shenandoah Navesink Appomattox
When we pass into South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida, we find an entirely different set of sounds predominating in the geographical words:
Allapoha Chattahoochie Altamaha Auchee Hachee Tallapoosa Caloosahatchee Oostanaula Chilloccohatchee Soquee Choctawhatchee Oconee Contoohatchee Ohoopee Fahkahnatchee Ochmulgee Ulcofauhachee Kissimmee Withlochoochee
While 17 streams in Florida have names ending in ee, only 3 in the nearby State of Mississippi have such names, suggesting that tribal boundaries were, on the whole, rather definite, and that tribal dialects dominated over well-de- fined areas. These geographical words show how widely the Indian dialects dif- fered in their prevailing sounds. The ear of the Iroquois evidently delighted in vowel sounds, and most of the Iroquois geographical names terminate in avowel, usually a or o. The tribes of New Eng- land show no such preference. In fact, their long words, loaded with conso- nants, seem like a train of half articu- late grunts. The tribes of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia had more musical ears and dialects. Most of the words which they have bequeathed us are pleasant to the ear and flow smoothly from the tongue. But when one exam- ines the words by which the red men of the South Atlantic States called their lakes and rivers, he is led at once to sus- pect that a crew of shipwrecked Chinese must some time have been stranded on these shores and have tacked to the orig- inal names a liberal sprinkling of char- acteristic Chinese ee's. With the excep- tion of the Great Lakes region, the Atlantic coastal states are the only ones which are fully strewn with Indian names. Other regions have them, but not in abundance.
There are other linguistic trails over our land besides those left by the red men. Up the Hudson and Mohawk goes the trail of the Dutchman, his footsteps marked by Fishkill, Catskill, Peekskill, and Shawangunk Kill ; by Rhinebeck and Rhinecliff ; by Stuyvesant, Rens- selaer, and Amsterdam.
In northern New York and Vermont is the trail of the Frenchman who dotted his path with Richelieu, Ausable, St Albans, Vergennes, and other terms of Gallic sound. The so-called Pennsylvania Dutchman has spread himself thoroughly over the land of Pennsylvania, and still reminds us of his nationality by the several hundred burghs which he founded. The Swede has left a memorial of himself along the Delaware in Swedesburg,Swedeland, Swedes' Ford, and Swede Furnace.
The trail of the explorer-priest extends from the mouth of the St Law- rence to the mouth of the Mississippi and along the larger branches of both rivers. His mind was bent upon missionary enterprises and his calendar was filled with saints' days. Those who came after him — to hunt, to trap, to trade, or to settle — were like him — Frenchmen and Catholics — admirers of the saints, whose names they gave to the rivers which they discovered, the trading posts, and the forts which they established or the settlements which they made. Such are St Lawrence, St John, St Peter, St Hyacinthe, St Catherine, St Thomas, St Mary, St Paul, St Anthony, St Joseph, St Charles, St Louis, St Francis, and St Martin, all and many more scattered along the path of the French explorers from Newfoundland to Louisiana. Hundreds of other French words mark the pathway of La Salle, Father Hennepin, and their followers; Wisconsin, Eau Claire, Fond du Lac, La Crosse, Des Moines, Des Plaines, Vincennes, Prairie du Chien, Pierre, Versailles, Louisiana, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans.
The geographical names in the two neighboring States of Mississippi and Louisiana tell differences in the early history of the two states. Not a county, island, lake, river, or city in Mississippi has a "saint" in its name, while 9 counties (or parishes) in Louisiana and 40 towns, rivers, or lakes do homage to the saints in their names.
The French occupation of Louisiana obliterated most of the Indian words. The most conspicuous reminder of the French settlers is seen in the "bayous." This is the French word for small stream ; one scarcely hears of a creek in Louisiana. They are all bayous. In Maryland they are "runs."
In Kentucky and Tennessee the vocabulary of the priest is strikingly absent; neither state has a county or stream named after a saint, but the vocabulary of the hunter and trapper is found everywhere; for example, in Tennessee we find the streams telling of the hunter in such names as Buffalo, Duck, Elk, Forked Deer, and Little Pigeon.
Montana and Idaho geography tells unmistakably of the invasion of the un-schooled miner. He sought the mountains with their treasures of ore. Almost every peak and range of these states bears a name which reveals at once that it was given by men who thought or cared little for the names which history or literature might suggest. Such men would naturally select Bear's Paw, Big Horn, Snake Head, Saw Tooth, Bitter Root, and Seven Devils.
Indian names are seldom met with in these mountain states. In fact, if one scans a list of the geographical words in Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, and Colorado he will scarcely suspect that Indian tribes ever lived within their borders.
The early settlers of Nebraska, Kansas, Dakota, Wisconsin, and Iowa were of a very cosmopolitan character, of varied nationalities, creeds, and ideals. They came from the Eastern States and from foreign countries, and to their settlements gave names that tell of the places in the East, or across the sea, whence these pioneers came.
Though Texas was formerly a part of Mexico and was subjected to Spanish influences, yet one fact at least reveals how slight was the real hold of Mexico upon Texas—the relative infrequency of names with the prefix san or santa. Like the French in the St Lawrence and Mississippi Valleys, the Spaniards in the regions which they explored were inclined to leave a spattering of saints' names. Where Spanish influence really dominated there the san and santa is frequent, and there rivers are "rios" and mountains are "sierras." While such words are often found in Texas—as, for example, San Antonia, San Diego, and Rio Grande—yet these names are relatively infrequent, but naturally increasing as you approach the Mexican border.
The stronger hold of the Spanish upon California is seen in its 10 counties and 15 important streams with names beginning with san or santa. Nearly all of the large cities and over 150 towns of California tell of the Spanish settlement — San Francisco, Sacramento, Los Angeles, San Diego, Alameda, Santa Cruz, Santa Barbara, and many more. Indian names are seldom found.
In the early fifties two important events were taking place on opposite sides of the earth—in Europe the Crimean war, in America the rush for the gold fields of California. In 1854-'55 came the famous siege of Sebastopol in the Crimea. Half way around the world, in the land of new-found gold, men were founding towns and adopting names for places, and among the names which the California miners selected are seven "Sebastopols," another illustration of how geographical names record history.
In Arizona and Colorado the trail of the Spaniard is everywhere visible. Twenty larger streams of the latter state are "rios." In the former the Spanish mesa, butte, el, san, and santa are constantly met with, yet of the 14 important mountain passes in Arizona not one has a Spanish name.
The desert lands of Nevada did not tempt the cavalier or the priest to build forts and missions. There was little to attract them into its sandy wastes. Less than a half dozen of the 40 important mountains and peaks are named in the Spanish tongue, and not a county in the state has a Spanish name. The place names of Oregon and Washington tell the checkered history of those states. Capes Foulweather and Disappointment speak of unhappy voyages. Astoria recalls the fur trade that helped to found the Astor fortune. The neighboring towns of Harrisburg and Lebanon suggest colonies of people from southeastern Pennsylvania. Salem suggests Massachusetts, and Albany speaks of New York. In both Washington and Oregon Indian names are rare. In Oregon not a saint, san, or santa is attached to a county or important natural feature.
Thus does history unwittingly record itself. Thus is a key which admits us to a glimpse of past events found in the place names of any region.