In the ever-present condition of change among things and men, the name of Chappaquansett seems doomed to be forgotten, though once frequently heard the length and breadth of the Island. For few people mention today the Indian name of that curious, low area that lies between West Chop and Makonikey along the Sound shore.

 

True, the character of the place has greatly changed through the centuries and even through the past few generations. There are no more farms such as the early Vineyarders knew, and the encampments of Indians had disappeared long before that.

“Yea, those of the Isles of Capawack sent to make friendship.” With these words, Governor Bradford, recording in his history, “Of Plimouth Planta­tion”, a moral triumph over the sur­rounding savages, singles out for men­tion by name the most dreaded tribe under Massasoit, Sachem of the Warmanoag, of southern Massachusetts.

 

The work of dredging now going on at Tashmoo Creek focuses attention upon one of the historical landmarks of the Island and one of which very little is remembered or preserved. Indians called this locality Chappaquansett, and old records refer to the creek as Chappaquansett Creek, rather than Tashmoo. It is evident that the Indians frequented this place in the olden days, as sizable middens have been located nearby and others are presumably buried beneath the shifting sands or have been washed out to sea.

A collection of old documents dating far back in the last century has been unearthed in the old Jeffers house at Gay Head by Lorenzo D. Jeffers, the present owner of the estate of his ancestors. These documents consist of letters, ledgers, bills and notations kept by Thomas Jeffers, grandfather of the present owner.

 

The first powwow to be held on Gay Head since the days of King Philip took place in that town last night, and the flavor and spirit of those ancient days was revived so far as possible when Lorenzo Jeffers was made chief of the tribe. Dressed in full Indian regalia, with a war bonnet on his head, but unaccompanied by the sound of the war drums or the spectacle of Indians dancing in the flickering flames of a bonfire, Rev. Leonard C.