From Gazette editions of May, 1960:
The name of Chappaquansett seems doomed to be forgotten, though it was once heard frequently the length and breadth of the Island. Few people mention the Indian name of that low area that lies between West Chop and Makonikey along the Sound shore. The character of the place has greatly changed through the centuries. There are no more farms such as the early Vineyarders knew, and the encampments of the Indians had disappeared long before that. Today it is occupied by a few residences, among them the homes of Katharine Cornell and Dr. Columbus Iselin.
There can be no question it was visited by the Indians. The herring run is guarantee enough that this was so. Yet there has been uncovered evidence to show that there must have been seasonal gatherings of Indians, and that whatever their aim or motives may have been, they were prepared to cope with extremes if they should arise. Such evidence is in the form of middens and caches of weapons and tools. In the edge of the marsh, there have been found significant relics. One such cache, uncovered by muskrat hunters, contained scores of arrowheads, dozens of tomahawks, wampum and ornaments, all buried in some sort of order. The number of offensive or defensive items suggested a foreboding of possible trouble.
The white settlers came eventually. Farms were established up and down the shores, and houses built on the rising land in back. The marshes provided the salt hay that was prized everywhere.
Rivalry of the keenest variety sprang up between the men of Chappaquansett and the West Chop people, and many were the races sailed and rowed up the Sound to meet the incoming ships from blue water which would need a pilot. One tale concerns a man given to over indulgence in liquor. It was said that he was a most capable pilot. Given a few drinks, he would take the wildest chances imaginable in order to win a race to an incoming ship. He provided himelf with unusual conveniences aboard his boat, including a cabin in which he could take shelter and sleep.
The pilots braved fearful cold in the winter as they sailed their races. Words of ships approaching seemed to have reached the Island far ahead of the ships themselves. There could have been various reasons for this, but having had the word, the pilots would on occasion leave home in advance of the ship’s being sighted and wait somewhere off the mouth of the Sound.
It was of this that the Chappaquansett pilot was thinking when he built his cabin aboard his boat, and according to this story he sailed out of the Sound half-drunk, and in a gale wind, to waylay a ship. Somewhere far to the southwest with night coming down, he hove his boat to, perhaps to a sea anchor, went below and fell asleep. Came the dawn and he awoke to find that the spray had frozen around the cabin doors and had barricaded him below. He worked and actually fought for a time, until he had crashed through the doors. And then, as he gained the cockpit, there laid the ship, with her topsails a-back, waiting for him to come alongside!
Chappaquansett backs up to the Tashmoo area. But the dune section and the rising land behind are the old stamping ground. Amphibious residents lived there when the country was new, and there were the homes of Revolutionary blockade-runners and of patriots (?), broad-minded indeed, who thought it no sin to give aid and comfort to the enemy, providing said enemy paid for the same in “hard” money.
Still, despite the increase in the number of houses, of lawns and flower beds, automobile roads and telephone wires, Chappaquansett is wild. The shadbush flowers in spring to announce the coming of the scup, mountain-cranberries grow on the slopes, and thorn-bushes and green-briars furnish cover for the shrikes and the rabbits and quail.
Tall blue heron wade in the marsh. Black ducks nest on the edge of the marsh and on brush-covered tussocks, and loons parade daily up and down, surveying things ashore between their dives below. Seldom indeed is a gun heard in this area. The wildlife know about this of course, which is the reason why seven birds nest in one thorn-bush. What kind? One wouldn’t know. It is one of the things that Chappaquansett keeps to itself.
Compiled by Cynthia Meisner
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