It’s All In The Name

Nanepashemet, a great chief of the Nipmuc tribe enjoyed fishing even more than being chief. If he was fishing, he didn’t have to make decisions, adjudicate complaints between squabbling tribe members, and listen to his wife’s endless to-do lists. Fishing was his escape and, on a good day, it provided food for his family.

His tribe had recently established a settlement on the shores of a large lake located in an area that would later become Webster Massachusetts. The soil wasn’t overly rocky like much of Massachusetts farmland, ample game roamed the thick woods and, most intriguing to Nanepashemet, the lake had an abundance of fish. There was only one flaw in this otherwise utopian location, his tribe wasn’t alone.

Askook led the Algonquian village on the lakes opposite shore. Although both settlements had been established at approximately the same time, the Algonquian community grew at a faster pace. More people equaled a need for more food so Askook’s people expanded their hunting and fishing grounds, limiting the Nipmuc’s food supply and threatening their very existence. War appeared to be the only solution.

The young braves from both camps eagerly prepared for the impending conflict, but before the first arrow was launched and the first tomahawk was swung in anger, emissaries from both tribes met to arrange a great powwow between the chiefs. It was decided that the great council was to take place at the rising of the full moon on the western shore of the as yet un-named lake.

Nanepashemet and Askook along with their advisers sat around a campfire and aired their tribe’s grievances. The powwow lasted until the first rays of sunshine breached the eastern sky. A well-structured accord was reached that allowed the Nipmuc tribe to hunt in all the lands south of the lake stretching into what is now known as Rhode Island while the Algonquian tribe would hunt in the northern area now known as western Massachusetts. All that remained was fishing rights in the large lake. With both parties exhausted from a long night of negotiating, they settled on a very simple solution: You fish on your side and I’ll fish on my side and no one fishes in the middle. To seal the deal the chiefs christened the lake with a word that described what had just been agreed on.

Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg.

Today when vacationers come to the lake, they simply call it Webster Lake, but the locals take great pride in correcting the out of towners and rattle off it’s given name. It’s a word that, with 46 letters, is the longest in the English language.