At the outbreak of King Philip's War in New England(1675-76 in southern New England, continuing till 1678 along the frontier in Maine), the Narragansett were the largest and most powerful tribe in the region. They had largely escaped the European diseases that preceded, by a few years, the settlements in Plymouth and Boston.
The Narragansett were decimated by that war. At its conclusion, many were sold into slavery in the West Indies, some escaped and joined tribes in Maine, and many others were allowed to settle with the Eastern Niantics, led by Sachem Ninigret, who lived in what is now Westerly and Charlestown, RI, and who had chosen to remain neutral during that great colonial war, which, on a per capita basis, was one of the bloodiest wars in American history. Eventually the merged tribes took the name Narragansett. The Eastern Niantic had been vassals of the Narragansett, and close relatives to them.
In 1983, the Narragansett earned federal recognition as a tribe, and there 1800 acre reservation surrounds School House Pond, in Charlestown, RI. It lies east of Watchaug Pond in Charlestown.
What follows is a personal tale, describing how I first learned that the Narragansett survived, and how, as a young child, I first met members of that tribe...
In the early 1950's, I remember day outings my dad's extended family undertook on summer weekends. To the woods of Charlestown, RI, and an open lean-to cabin atop the slopes above the southeastern shore of Watchaug Pond. Down from Providence most of us drove, on Route 1, the old Post Road. Once in Charlestown, we branched right and up King's Factory Rd., not yet paved, still a gravel road. Set back from the road, here and there, worn out houses, and worn out abandoned cars littering yards, in a rural poor look that somehow I have always actually appreciated, as if it portrayed some Americana tableau. I remember my mother telling me one day, as we passed these houses on our way to the picnic spot, that these were where the Narragansett Indians lived. And I remember, when she told me, thinking "wow, still Indians in Rhode Island".
On the left, a rutted dirt road, almost more a path as road, wound up the wooded slopes to the lean-to cabin above the Pond. And there we enjoyed the summer day, going swimming in the pond, crossing over by rowboat to the other side to go blueberrying, and having a cookout using the stone built fireplace that stood near each lean-to. My father was one of 7, 3 brothers, and 4 sisters, and they, their spouses, and their children at that time, all made the journey.
On the shore of the southeast side of Watchaug Pond, I remember a tall abandoned home, and knowing a Narragansett family had once lived there. We would pass it on our way to the beach.
One day, my cousin Mike and I, decided we would walk to the ocean. We knew it was south of where we were, and I'm not sure we knew more then that. And, of course, we decided we would do this without telling the adults. I was about 6, soon to be 7, or 7, soon to be 8. My best guess as to my age at the time. Mike was a number of months younger then I, not quite a year I believe.
We never reached the ocean. There is a large salt pond in the way. It's called Ninigret Pond, and is the largest of the string of salt ponds/barrier beaches on Rhode Island's Washington County, or "South County" Atlantic coast. We reached a house, I think it was on or near the north shore of that salt pond. An elderly woman invited us inside. She was a kind woman, and fed each of us a slice of apple pie.
Then it was time to walk back. We must have crossed Rt. 1, as we must have done on the way down, and up the gravel road that was King's Factory Rd at the time.
By that time at least the adults had called out the Camp Fire Girls, who had a camp nearby on the pond, to help in the search for Mike and I. I remember being told later, in addition to searching themselves, the adults were about to ask for help from the police. Town or state, I don't know.
Mike and I came to a bend in King's Factory Rd., where it curved to the right and you could not see ahead. On the right was a huge tree, just set back and slightly elevated above the road, right at the curve. A driveway, yard, clapboard house, and a small group of boys standing in the road. 5 or 6 boys, about our age. One stood out as the leader. He approached us, blocked our way, as the others gathered around him. "Do you know where you are?" he asked us. Before we could answer, he said, in a proud and threatening tone, "This is Narragansett land, and we are going to scalp you!" One of the boys held a rope, and we were to be tied to the big tree.
Before they could actually grab hold of us, at which point I assume a struggle would have ensued, around the sharp curve from the north drove my Uncle Frank, who was Mike's father, with Mike's mom, my Aunt Trudy in the passenger seat. Mike and I both threw our arms in the air, I remember yelling "yay!", as I had been scared out of my wits, and into the back seat of the car we jumped. And back to the family encampment, to catch hell, we drove.
Strange as it may seem, I've always felt a connection to the Narragansett, that dates from those days. Because of the country we were in, as my mother had first told me, because of the homes on the road, and on the pond, and because of that encounter. I've often wondered who that leader grew up to be. He was very proud to be a Narragansett and I've always assumed he grew into a leader. Maybe not, who can really say, but I was impressed, as a young boy his age. I was impressed, lol.
That's how I was introduced to the first nations of Rhode Island, the native people of my home state. It was a heck of an introduction.
And I never did return after that day to any family picnic on Watchaug Pond. Nor did my parents. I really can't say why. Those lean-to half cabin picnic sites still existed in the 80's, perhaps they still do. Of course I'll take my memories of those times to the grave, and I very much appreciate having met the Narragansett in that fashion! Scared me half to death at the time, makes me smile broadly today.
The Narragansett were decimated by that war. At its conclusion, many were sold into slavery in the West Indies, some escaped and joined tribes in Maine, and many others were allowed to settle with the Eastern Niantics, led by Sachem Ninigret, who lived in what is now Westerly and Charlestown, RI, and who had chosen to remain neutral during that great colonial war, which, on a per capita basis, was one of the bloodiest wars in American history. Eventually the merged tribes took the name Narragansett. The Eastern Niantic had been vassals of the Narragansett, and close relatives to them.
In 1983, the Narragansett earned federal recognition as a tribe, and there 1800 acre reservation surrounds School House Pond, in Charlestown, RI. It lies east of Watchaug Pond in Charlestown.
What follows is a personal tale, describing how I first learned that the Narragansett survived, and how, as a young child, I first met members of that tribe...
In the early 1950's, I remember day outings my dad's extended family undertook on summer weekends. To the woods of Charlestown, RI, and an open lean-to cabin atop the slopes above the southeastern shore of Watchaug Pond. Down from Providence most of us drove, on Route 1, the old Post Road. Once in Charlestown, we branched right and up King's Factory Rd., not yet paved, still a gravel road. Set back from the road, here and there, worn out houses, and worn out abandoned cars littering yards, in a rural poor look that somehow I have always actually appreciated, as if it portrayed some Americana tableau. I remember my mother telling me one day, as we passed these houses on our way to the picnic spot, that these were where the Narragansett Indians lived. And I remember, when she told me, thinking "wow, still Indians in Rhode Island".
On the left, a rutted dirt road, almost more a path as road, wound up the wooded slopes to the lean-to cabin above the Pond. And there we enjoyed the summer day, going swimming in the pond, crossing over by rowboat to the other side to go blueberrying, and having a cookout using the stone built fireplace that stood near each lean-to. My father was one of 7, 3 brothers, and 4 sisters, and they, their spouses, and their children at that time, all made the journey.
On the shore of the southeast side of Watchaug Pond, I remember a tall abandoned home, and knowing a Narragansett family had once lived there. We would pass it on our way to the beach.
One day, my cousin Mike and I, decided we would walk to the ocean. We knew it was south of where we were, and I'm not sure we knew more then that. And, of course, we decided we would do this without telling the adults. I was about 6, soon to be 7, or 7, soon to be 8. My best guess as to my age at the time. Mike was a number of months younger then I, not quite a year I believe.
We never reached the ocean. There is a large salt pond in the way. It's called Ninigret Pond, and is the largest of the string of salt ponds/barrier beaches on Rhode Island's Washington County, or "South County" Atlantic coast. We reached a house, I think it was on or near the north shore of that salt pond. An elderly woman invited us inside. She was a kind woman, and fed each of us a slice of apple pie.
Then it was time to walk back. We must have crossed Rt. 1, as we must have done on the way down, and up the gravel road that was King's Factory Rd at the time.
By that time at least the adults had called out the Camp Fire Girls, who had a camp nearby on the pond, to help in the search for Mike and I. I remember being told later, in addition to searching themselves, the adults were about to ask for help from the police. Town or state, I don't know.
Mike and I came to a bend in King's Factory Rd., where it curved to the right and you could not see ahead. On the right was a huge tree, just set back and slightly elevated above the road, right at the curve. A driveway, yard, clapboard house, and a small group of boys standing in the road. 5 or 6 boys, about our age. One stood out as the leader. He approached us, blocked our way, as the others gathered around him. "Do you know where you are?" he asked us. Before we could answer, he said, in a proud and threatening tone, "This is Narragansett land, and we are going to scalp you!" One of the boys held a rope, and we were to be tied to the big tree.
Before they could actually grab hold of us, at which point I assume a struggle would have ensued, around the sharp curve from the north drove my Uncle Frank, who was Mike's father, with Mike's mom, my Aunt Trudy in the passenger seat. Mike and I both threw our arms in the air, I remember yelling "yay!", as I had been scared out of my wits, and into the back seat of the car we jumped. And back to the family encampment, to catch hell, we drove.
Strange as it may seem, I've always felt a connection to the Narragansett, that dates from those days. Because of the country we were in, as my mother had first told me, because of the homes on the road, and on the pond, and because of that encounter. I've often wondered who that leader grew up to be. He was very proud to be a Narragansett and I've always assumed he grew into a leader. Maybe not, who can really say, but I was impressed, as a young boy his age. I was impressed, lol.
That's how I was introduced to the first nations of Rhode Island, the native people of my home state. It was a heck of an introduction.
And I never did return after that day to any family picnic on Watchaug Pond. Nor did my parents. I really can't say why. Those lean-to half cabin picnic sites still existed in the 80's, perhaps they still do. Of course I'll take my memories of those times to the grave, and I very much appreciate having met the Narragansett in that fashion! Scared me half to death at the time, makes me smile broadly today.
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