The Changing of Historic Place Names

CONTENTS

Prefatory Note

The author wishes to state that this brief monograph is written at the suggestion of Col. Henry W. Shoemaker, who has not only assisted in the writing, but who also has kindly paid the expense of publication. The article could be extended very greatly. The author thinks, however, that enough is written to call attention to the evil of changing place names.

G. P. D.

Introduction

It is indeed a privilege, through the agency of the Pennsylvania Alpine Club, to assist in the publication of so timely a monograph as that of Dr. Donehoo’s, on the subject of changing historic place names. Every month the senseless shifting is going on, newcomers wresting from the historic past the heritage of honored names. It will be difficult a century hence to follow the course of history in Pennsylvania; even now it is hard to identify the places visited by early travelers like Spangenberg, Ettwein and Col. Weiser, as innovators have changed and re-changed even the names of the streams and mountains that they crossed. It will be hard to trace the racial and philological development of the State, as the haphazard system of renaming places destroys all historic sequence of nationality and individual tendencies. One bright spot remains. Pennsylvania has discarded fewer of her Indian names than most other States; personal vanity or prejudice was hardly strong enough to obliterate these—for even more than “their names are on the waters and you cannot blot them out,” the Indian-named mountains, valleys, lakes, rivers and streams persist and bid fair to defy the ruthlessness of the ages. Let the constant watchfulness of every public-spirited Pennsylvanian be directed to “save the ancient landmarks” and keep inviolate the sturdy, distinctive nomenclature and spelling handed down by our fore-fathers.

Henry W. Shoemaker.

“Restless Oaks,” McElhattan, Pa., April 30, 1921.

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Changing Historic Place Names

The Mosaic Law contained the following: “Cursed be he that removeth his neighbor’s landmark: and all the people shall say, Amen.”

They did not have a Historical Society during the early development of the Jewish Commonwealth, or Moses might have added to these wise regulations, “Cursed be he that changeth one of the historic names of towns and villages, and all the people shall say, Amen.”

A place name is not only a landmark, but it is a historic landmark, often of more real value than the landmark of an individual occupant of the soil. Sometimes the whole history of a region can be dug up by the careful student of the names which are given to the towns, villages, streams and mountains in that region. Very few of the earlier place names in Pennsylvania were given in a haphazard way. They all meant something, and in most cases something of real historic value.

Some of these early names are most beautiful to hear, and some are not. But they are all of interest and historic value. Many of the most beautiful sounding names, and names of historic value, have disappeared entirely from the map of the state. Wyoming is an illustration of the disappearance of an old, beautiful and historic name. Many people think that the name “Wyoming” belongs to the state to which it migrated from the beautiful vale of Pennsylvania, where it was made historic for all time.

Some of the earliest place names now are applied to towns and topographical features far removed from the place which gave them birth. Shamokin is an illustration of this change. This name is one of the very oldest on the Susquehanna River, and it was used during the entire period of settlement, as well as during the period of Indian occupancy, when the Vice-Gerent of the Iroquois Confederacy made it the Indian capitol of Pennsylvania. All of the early travelers and all of the official documents relating to Indian affairs use this name for the present Sunbury. The name Shamokin has been given to a town which is in no way connected with the historic town from which this name was taken. In order to avoid confusion, a historical writer now has to always refer to the old, historic place in this manner: “Shamokin (now Sunbury).” The same rule has to apply to the other historic village of Wyoming. When this place is mentioned, the statement must be made as “Wyoming (now Wilkes-Barre).” Probably the greatest crime of all is that which was committed by some classical school teacher in the change which was made from Tioga to Athens. The author in other publications has referred to the trail of the massacre of Indian place names by these classic school teachers from New England. It was one of the sad results of the Connecticut Settlement of Pennsylvania and Western New York. The Indian names were slaughtered without pity. The Scotch-Irish in Pennsylvania killed the Indians, but spared the names which the Indians had given to the rivers and mountains in the region in which they had lived. The New England school teacher slaughtered the names. Follow the trail of these classical scholars from Athens up into New York and you find a veritable trail of blood of historic and beautiful Indian names.

Imagine, if you please, the following names within the historic habitat of the mighty Iroquois: Cato, Ovid, Camillus, Rome, Utica, Troy, Syracuse, Marathon, Ithaca, Geneva, Sempronius, Aurelius, Marcellus, Scipioville, Aurora, Romulus, Junius—and so on ad nauseam, there is hardly any limit to the list. The beautiful lake region of New York seems to have been the “Gettysburg” of the New England teacher, where the “high tide” of classical slaughter was done. By direct trail he reached the headwaters of the Susquehanna, where he killed Tioga in cold blood, and then erected “Athens.” About this time the tide of Scotch-Irish and German “Pennamites” swept up the Susquehanna River and ended the advance of the classical scholar and prevented the continuation of the slaughter along the Susquehanna River.

I have always been thankful that this classic invasion of Pennsylvania soil did not come into the State by the way of the Allegheny River. Had it done so, the Ohio, or La Belle Riviere, might probably have been re-baptized the “Styx,” and the old twin towns at the headwaters of this stream called Romulus and Remus.

A “name” means something. It stands for the person or place. To the Israelite the name of the Deity was so sacred and awful that it was not pronounced at all. One of the Commandments relates to the taking of “the name in vain.” We Americans are losing our spirit of reverence for almost everything. Names of places are changed without a feeling of loss. Sometimes these changes are due to the errors of clerks or map makers. There are so many illustrations of this method of change that only a few can be mentioned. Carter Camp, in Potter County, has been substituted for Cartee Camp—the name of a historic family, of which General Cartee was a member. One can easily see how this change was made by a copyist glancing at the name Cartee and then writing the more familiar “Carter.” Another illustration of the same sort of error is found in the name “Queen’s Run,” which should be Quinn’s Run—named for a famous early settler and Indian lighter who settled above Lock Haven, on the West Branch.

Col. Henry W. Shoemaker calls my attention to a few other changes of this sort. The Cattleman River should be “Casselman,” being named for a famous family of pioneers which settled in Western Pennsylvania. One of the townships in Clinton County is now named “Gallagher” instead of “Gallauher,” in honor of Judge Abraham Gallauher. The recent maps of Pennsylvania are literally filled with such clerical errors, which finally have the authority of the United States Government to back them up, in the Geological Survey Maps and naming of Post Offices. These errors could all be avoided by having the proofs of maps and other official documents submitted to the County Historical Societies before final publication.

Other changes of names are intentional, as in the case of the many names, such as Athens, for Tioga Point; Sunbury, for Shamokin; Wilkes-Barre, for Wyoming. These changes were made so long ago that the more recent name has become historic. But changes are being made which have no historic significance whatever. One of the worst, which the author often thinks about because he remembers the place by its old name, is that of the large and growing town of Coraopolis, below Pittsburg, which formerly had the historic name of Vance Fort—which means something of the romantic period when the early settlers on the Ohio had to fly to Vance’s Fort for protection from the Indians. “Coraopolis” means nothing whatever. There are “opolis” without number in the United States. There was only one Vance Fort. The change of Venango to Franklin is another illustration of giving up an early and historic name.

Another change which Col. Shoemaker tells me of is the suggested change of Shousetown to Glenwillard. The Shouse family was one of the early pioneer families on the upper Ohio in the days when the male members of the family defended the frontiers of civilization. There are “glens” of every possible style and degree of fashion in the State, but there is only one Shousetown, or Shouse Ferry. Somehow, whenever a certain type of people move into a locality, it seems to be about the first thing which these modern pioneers think of, is that of changing a name, which does not have an up-to-date sound, to “glen”-something-or-other. Instead of cutting down trees, they cut down names. My very good friend Gifford Pinchot is a perfect friend of “forestry conservation,” so is my other friend, Col. Henry W. Shoemaker—more power to both of them in their good work! Let us all start a movement for the “preservation and conservation of the historic place names of Pennsylvania.” Some of these names are not as “pretty” as they might be, but they mean something, and they are historic. I know that Mary is a rather old-fashioned name for a girl, when compared with Gladys or Ethyl—but somehow the name means more. It has the historic light of ages playing about it. One thinks of deep-blue Syrian skies and the lakes of Killarney, and a lot of other things, when it is mentioned. So, Shousetown has a sort of crude sound when compared with “Glenwillard.” But if you think of the sturdy frontiersman who ferried across the Ohio in the early days, the name becomes romantic. So also with the other names. If you know why they were given, you will realize why they should stay.

Another matter which calls for the attention of Historical Societies is that of giving names to places which never had a name. These names should have some meaning, either in local or state history. Oftentimes new towns are given names which bear no relation to anything in local or State history. Such names as “Mexico,” “Arroyo,” “Vera Cruz,” etc., have no relation whatever to anything local or State. Many of these names are intrusive. They have historical significance elsewhere, but not here.

In view of these very brief remarks about Pennsylvania place names, the author would suggest to the various Historical Societies in the State the passage of an Act of Assembly forbidding the giving of names to any place, or the changing of any place name, without the authority of either the Historical Commission or of some other historical body, such as the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. The author understands that many European countries and some of our own States already have such laws. A person has the right to call his own country place or farm by whatever name he wishes. But State names of places become the property of the State, and become a part of the State’s archives. Such a law would prevent the ignorant vandalism which has been so much in evidence in the past, in blotting out historic names, and it would also prevent the thoughtless and, oftentimes, utterly ridiculous bestowal of names.

There are hundreds of appropriate and beautiful historic names in early Pennsylvania history, among which are many really significant Indian names, which have never been given to any places or topographical features. These names, rather than meaningless ones, could be given to new towns and villages, and even to country places. Now is the fitting time for the Historical Societies of the State to commence a movement having in view the results mentioned in this article. Nearly every county in the State now has a Historical Society, or has such a society under way. This work can be made a most valuable part of the activity of such societies. The change of historic place names may seem a small matter, but it is not. Equally offensive is the mis-spelling of historic names, for it adds a studied indifference to the illustrious names or events in history, which no patriotic American should pass over lightly. We must hold to our historic place names as the tangible links in the chain of our historical development.