Two very different deaths

Much is revealed by the death of these two figures. According to Drake, St. Aspinquid was born in 1588 and died in 1682. This is roughly the era of Passaconaway, who legend says, lived 100 years or more. Aspinquid, however, is said to have walked clear across the North American continent to the Pacific Ocean converting his fellow Natives, a story likely created in the early 1800s as the nation expanded westward.

White legend says that St. Aspinquid was buried, Christ-like, in a cave on Agamenticus that is covered in stones. This may be the founding myth of the contemporary pile of rocks, gathered in the 20^th century, and now in dispute.

The modern sign that marked the spot apparently came from the St. Aspinquid Lodge, a Masonic group in York. There is also an inn in Ogunquit named for the imaginary saint.

White historians record that between 3,000 and 15,000 wild animals were sacrificed by Natives in at St. Aspinquid’s funeral – a very unlikely prospect. One popular version places the number at exactly 6,723 and lists the numbers of every type of animal killed, some of which were never seen in this region in the 17^th century.

We know nothing about the historical death of Passaconaway. Rumor says his bones lie in a display case in a French museum, the ultimate indignity. Pennacook legend says Passaconaway rode a great sled pulled by two dozen wolves to the top of the tallest peak in the White Mountains, bursting into flames as he disappeared into the sky. Perhaps this explains the origin of the animal sacrifice story adapted in York lore.

Celebrating real Native America

Nobody doubts the powerful presence of Native Americans in this region for thousands of years prior to European occupation. That Mount Agamenticus, the highest point in the seacoast region, was sacred to Native Americans seems very likely. The historical Passconaway, however, is largely associated with the region near modern Concord or along the Amoskeag River in Manchester. He appears in local histories from the North Shore to Plymouth, MA, or living in isolation and safety among the White Mountains. He was spotted, some say, along the Maine and New Hampshire coast by an early white explorer. It only makes sense that a similar figure, re-engineered for white Christian audiences, was scaled down from Native lore in the White Mountains (that includes the 4,019-foot high Mt. Passaconaway) and relocated to the 692-foot Mount Agamenticus.

The danger of the Aspinquid story, however, is that it muddies the waters; it distracts from the already difficult search for the historic Indian leader Passaconaway without adding any useful details about Native Americans. St. Aspinquid is a white-man's Indian -- savagely romantic, culturally fascinating, potentially dangerous, even sexy -- but ultimately powerless, obedient and contrite. Like Longfellow's Hiawatha, Aspinquid may simply be Passaconaway, recast for polite Christian readers who enjoyed local "history" -- as long as it portrayed Indians as noble savages.

Eckstorm was right. She warned in 1924 that continually talking about Aspinquid (as I am doing now) dishonors the past. Even Native American descendants should be wary of attaching too much significance to this imagined figure. Instead, the Seacoast needs to honor authentic Native American heroes and traditions in every way possible, much as we are beginning to do for African Americans with memorials, walking trails, research and lectures. A memorial on Mt. Agamenticus, one that captures the authentic spirit of the "People of the Dawnland" and the real Passaconaway is an idea well worth consideration. Attending to St. Aspinquid as anything more than a romantic footnote is largely time wasted. His scattered stone memorial, however, still serves as a placeholder for a tribute yet to come.

© 2008 by J. Dennis Robinson. Al rights reserved at SeacoastNH.com.