It could mean “hilly island.” Or “the place where timber is procured for bows and arrows.” Or, perhaps the label that even works today: “Island where we all become intoxicated.”
Anthropologist Robert S. Grumet believes the simplest translation of Manhattan is probably the best: “Island.”
But “who doesn’t like a place name that means so many things to so many people?” he says.
That’s part of what attracted Grumet to study the Native American origins of our city and location titles, some of which he’s collected in a new book, “Manhattan to Minisink” (University of Oklahoma Press).
From Lackawanna to Kisco, Grumet, a former archaeologist with the National Park Service, explores the likely meaning among the local tribes and the story behind how they became the names of the places we know today.
“I’m still impressed by the passion and power evoked by place names,” Grumet says, adding that his work is hardly done. His book “still only skims the surface of the 500 or so Indian place names on present-day greater New York maps.”
We asked Grumet to pick a few of his favorite stories behind the names:
MOSHOLU — It took three decades for Grumet to figure out the origins of this Bronx neighborhood. He finally found it in William Bright’s “Native American Places Names of the United States” in, of all places, Mashulavilla, Miss. Turns out it’s not a local name, but a bastardized spelling of the Choctaw leader Mushulatubbee, who fought for the US in the War of 1812. His exploits were so celebrated that a US Navy ship in the Civil War was named the USS Mashula.
TUCCAMIRGAN — This park in Hunterdon County, NJ, is said to be named after a Delaware chief who befriended the first local colonist, Johann Philip Case. In 1925, an obelisk was placed in the cemetery saying, in part, “Erected by the Citizens of Flemington as a Tribute to this Friend of the White Man.” Grumet really wanted this one to be real but, alas, was progressively dismayed when research showed it wasn’t. There are no records of a chief by that name — a name that could have been made up — and it seems the backstory is a legend told by another family in another town.
PREAKNESS — This one remains a wonderful mystery. Some believe Preakness Mountain comes from a Delaware word for “venison,” and it means “Deer Mountain.” But perhaps it isn’t Native American at all, and it comes from the Dutch “preek,” which means “to preach.” Either way, the name is more famous today for Preakness, a horse named after the mountain and owned by Milton Sanford, who won the first race at Pimlico in 1870. Three years later, the first Preakness Stakes was named for that horse.
CAHOONZIE — The name of a hamlet, a lake and a street in the town of Deerpark in Orange County. There was a legend that it was named after the Cahoonshee Indians — which are an imaginary tribe. So, where did it really come from? In 1825, part of Deerpark was carved off and became the town of Calhoun, named after South Carolina Sen. John C. Calhoun, who was admired locally for his support during the War of 1812. But in 1833, because of Calhoun’s backing of slavery, Calhoun was renamed Mount Hope. The hamlet adopting the name Cahoonzie around this time could be a backlash against the backlash — continued support for the embattled senator.
COCKENOE and NORMANOCK — You’re not imagining things if you think you see variations of these names quite often. Places now bearing Cockenoe’s name include Cockenoe Island, Cricker Brook, Creconoff Road, and Kensico. Nomanock is the namesake of Namanock Island, the village of Nanuet, Naraneka Lake, Oreneca Road, Tackora Trail, and Norrans Ridge in Connecticut. The two men were two prominent Native American culture brokers. As “sachem,” or chiefs, they participated in a number of land sales and appear in many other records. Their people were forced west, resettled in reservations in Oklahoma, Ontario, Kansas and Wisconsin; but their names live on forever here.
From “Manhattan to Minisink: American Indian Place Names in Greater New York and Vicinity” (University of Oklahoma Press), out now.