A History of New Hampshire

• Introduction
• Chapter 1 The Land and its First Peoples
• Chapter 2 European Arrival and Early Settlements
• Chapter 3 Under the Shadow of Massachusetts: The Early Colonial Years
• Chapter 4 A Royal Province: Identity and Conflict
• Chapter 5 Life in Colonial New Hampshire: Society and Economy
• Chapter 6 The Stirrings of Revolution: From the Pine Tree Riot to Portsmouth's Powder Raid
• Chapter 7 The First State: New Hampshire's Road to Independence
• Chapter 8 Forging a New Nation: The Ninth and Deciding State
• Chapter 9 The Era of Jeffersonian Democracy and Growth
• Chapter 10 The Rise of the Mill Towns: The Industrial Revolution Takes Hold
• Chapter 11 A State Divided: The Abolitionist Movement and the Road to Civil War
• Chapter 12 The Granite State in the Civil War: On the Battlefield and the Home Front
• Chapter 13 The Gilded Age: Railroads, Robber Barons, and Reform
• Chapter 14 The Progressive Era: Social and Political Change in the Early 20th Century
• Chapter 15 From World War I to the Great Depression
• Chapter 16 New Hampshire in World War II: The Home Front and the War Effort
• Chapter 17 The Post-War Boom and the Rise of the Presidential Primary
• Chapter 18 A Changing Economy: From Textiles to Technology
• Chapter 19 "Live Free or Die": The Evolution of a Political Identity
• Chapter 20 Environmentalism and the Protection of the White Mountains
• Chapter 21 The Old Man of the Mountain: A Symbol and Its Loss
• Chapter 22 New Hampshire in the 21st Century: An Aging Population and Shifting Demographics
• Chapter 23 The New Economy: Challenges of Housing and Workforce Development
• Chapter 24 Contemporary Politics: From the State House to the National Stage
• Chapter 25 The Future of the Granite State
• Afterword

New Hampshire is a state of stubborn contradictions. It is small enough to be overlooked, ranking seventh-smallest in land area, yet it casts a disproportionately large shadow over the nation's political landscape every four years. It possesses a mere sliver of an Atlantic coastline, yet its history is deeply intertwined with maritime trade and shipbuilding. Its landscape is dominated by the rugged, unforgiving peaks of the White Mountains, yet its river valleys gave birth to some of the largest and most innovative industrial centers of the 19th century. This is a state whose history, much like its famed granite, is a story of hardness, resilience, and surprising utility.

To understand New Hampshire is to understand a particular strain of the American character, one that is fiercely independent, deeply practical, and occasionally cantankerous. Its state motto, "Live Free or Die," is not a gentle suggestion but a declaration of intent, a thread woven through its history from the earliest days of settlement to the present. This sentiment echoes from a toast penned by Revolutionary War hero General John Stark in 1809, though its spirit predates him by more than a century. It was in the actions of colonists who, months before the "shot heard 'round the world," seized gunpowder and arms from the British at Fort William and Mary in one of the first overt acts of rebellion. It was in the decision to become the very first of the thirteen colonies to establish its own independent government in January 1776. And it was in the state's pivotal role as the ninth and deciding vote to ratify the U.S. Constitution, the act that officially transformed a collection of rebellious states into a unified nation.

But the story of New Hampshire is far more than a series of revolutionary firsts. Long before European ships arrived, the land was home to the Abenaki and other Algonquian-speaking peoples, who navigated its dense forests and fished its abundant rivers for thousands of years. Theirs is the foundational chapter, a history written on the landscape itself, in the names of its mountains and waterways. The arrival of English settlers in the 1620s marked the beginning of a new and often violent era, a period of cultural collision, colonial ambition, and the gradual forging of a new society in a challenging wilderness.

This book traces the long and complex journey of the Granite State. It will explore the early years under the formidable shadow of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, the conflicts and compromises that led to its establishment as a royal province, and the development of a unique social and economic fabric in the colonial era. We will follow the stirrings of revolution, not just in the halls of government, but in the forests where disputes over the King's timber gave rise to the Pine Tree Riot.

The narrative will then chart New Hampshire's course through the currents of American history. We will examine the rise of the great mill towns like Manchester, where the Amoskeag Manufacturing Company once stood as the largest cotton textile plant in the world, powered by the state's rushing rivers and the labor of thousands of immigrants, particularly French Canadians. We will delve into the state's active role as a center for the abolitionist movement and its significant contributions to the Union cause during the Civil War.

The journey continues through the Gilded Age, with its railroads and reformers, and into the 20th century, where New Hampshire's political identity took on a new and national dimension with the establishment of the first-in-the-nation presidential primary. We will explore how the state navigated the great upheavals of two world wars and the Great Depression, and how its economy transformed from one reliant on textiles and shoemaking to one driven by technology and services. This history also encompasses the evolving relationship between the people and the land, from the rise of environmentalism to protect the iconic White Mountains to the collective sense of loss when the Old Man of the Mountain, a granite profile that had become a state symbol, crumbled from its perch.

Finally, we will turn to the New Hampshire of the 21st century, a state facing contemporary challenges of an aging population, workforce development, and the enduring debate over its role in the nation's political life. Through this comprehensive history, from the first peoples to the modern-day political battles, a portrait emerges of a state that has always been more than the sum of its small parts. It is a story of a people shaped by the granite beneath their feet and the revolutionary ideals in their hearts—a history of New Hampshire, in all its defiant, independent, and enduring complexity.

Before there was a New Hampshire, there was the land, and forged in violence. The story of the Granite State begins not with a stroke of a king's pen or the arrival of a European ship, but with the colossal, slow-motion collision of continents. Hundreds of millions of years ago, the landmass that would become North America ground against another, a microcontinent called Avalonia, in a tectonic impact that buckled the earth's crust. This immense pressure and heat folded and faulted ancient seabeds and squeezed molten rock, or magma, up from the planet's depths. This was the Acadian Orogeny, a mountain-building event that was a crucial episode in the formation of the larger Appalachian chain.

As this molten rock cooled slowly, deep beneath the surface, it crystallized into the hard, durable rock that would one day give the state its identity: granite. Over subsequent eons, vast, younger layers of rock and soil were weathered and stripped away, gradually exposing the resilient granite core. This process created several distinct types of granite, such as the famous pinkish Conway Granite that forms much of the White Mountains, and the fine-grained, light gray Concord Granite, prized for its use in building. While New Hampshire is famously known as "the Granite State," less than half of its bedrock is actually granite; much of the rest is schist and gneiss, metamorphic rocks formed when the intense heat and pressure of ancient geological events transformed existing rock without melting it completely.

The landscape we recognize today, however, owes its final, dramatic sculpting to a much more recent and colder force: ice. Beginning tens of thousands of years ago, massive glaciers, in some places a kilometer thick, advanced and retreated across the land. This immense weight of ice scraped and scoured the mountains, rounding their peaks and carving deep, U-shaped valleys like Franconia Notch. As the last Ice Age ended around 12,000 years ago, the melting glaciers released torrents of water and debris, creating the region's lakes, rivers, and gorges, and leaving behind tell-tale signs of their passage, such as Madison Boulder, North America's largest glacial erratic. The land that emerged was raw and new, a rugged terrain of exposed granite peaks, fast-flowing rivers, and newly formed soil, ready for life to take hold.

The first people to witness this post-glacial landscape arrived between 12,000 and 13,000 years ago. Known to archaeologists as Paleo-Indians, they were nomadic hunters who likely traveled in small bands. They entered a New Hampshire that was drastically different from today, a subarctic tundra environment on the edge of the receding ice sheet. Here, they hunted large game animals like caribou, which provided not only food but also hides for clothing and tents, and bone and antler for tools. Evidence of their presence is rare, consisting mostly of their distinctive, fluted stone spear points found at sites like the Potter Site in Randolph. The stone used for these tools indicates that these early peoples traveled widely and were part of a much larger network, as some materials were sourced from as far away as northern Maine. The Tenant Swamp Site in Keene holds the remains of what are believed to be the oldest known dwellings in all of New England, offering a glimpse into the lives of these first inhabitants.

As the climate continued to warm, the landscape transformed. Forests of spruce, fir, and later, pine and hardwoods, replaced the tundra. This shift marked the beginning of what archaeologists call the Archaic Period, lasting from roughly 9,000 to 3,000 years ago. The people of this era adapted to the changing environment, developing a more diverse set of tools to exploit the abundant plant and animal life. They became expert hunters, fishers, and foragers, moving seasonally to take advantage of different resources. Rivers like the Merrimack and the Saco became vital transportation routes and sources of food. A remarkable testament to their ingenuity can still be seen in the Ashuelot River: the remains of a 4,000-year-old fish dam, a carefully constructed stone weir designed to trap migrating fish.

Around 3,000 years ago, another series of innovations marked the transition to the Woodland Period. During this era, two significant technologies were adopted: the creation of ceramic pottery and the practice of agriculture. The cultivation of the "three sisters"—corn, beans, and squash—provided a more stable food source, allowing for the establishment of more settled, seasonal villages, often located on fertile river floodplains. The bow and arrow was also introduced, making hunting more efficient. These developments supported a more complex society, with growing populations and richer ceremonial lives.

The descendants of these early peoples were the Abenaki, the inhabitants of the region upon the arrival of Europeans. The name Abenaki (or Wabanaki) translates to "People of the Dawnland" or "People of the First Light," a name reflecting their geographic position in the northeast. They were not a single, unified tribe but rather a collection of related Algonquian-speaking bands who shared a common culture. In the land that would become New Hampshire, these groups included the Pennacook, who lived along the Merrimack River valley; the Winnipesaukee, centered around the great lake that bears their name; and the Pigwacket (or Pequawket), who inhabited the upper Saco River valley. Their homeland, which they called Ndakinna ("Our Land"), stretched across what is now New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, and parts of Quebec.

Abenaki society was organized into small, kin-based bands, often led by a civil chief, or sachem, who guided through consensus rather than command. Important decisions, especially concerning warfare, were typically made by a general council that included all adults, both men and women. While many neighboring tribes were matrilineal, the Abenaki were generally a patrilineal society, with hunting territories and leadership often passed down through the father's line. Their lives were governed by the rhythm of the seasons. In the spring and summer, they gathered in larger villages near rivers and the coast to plant crops, fish for salmon and other migratory species, and gather wild plants. When winter arrived, they dispersed into smaller family groups and moved inland to hunt deer, moose, and bear. This seasonal migration ensured that they did not deplete the resources of any single area.

Their dwellings reflected this mobile lifestyle. The most common was the wigwam, a dome-shaped structure made of saplings covered with sheets of birch bark or woven mats. For the colder months, larger, multi-family longhouses provided shelter for the extended community. Travel was primarily by water, and the Abenaki were masters of building and using the birchbark canoe, a lightweight yet durable vessel ideal for navigating the region's network of rivers and lakes. The Saco River, whose name derives from an Abenaki word meaning "flowing out" or "outlet," was a crucial highway, connecting the interior of the White Mountains to the Atlantic coast.

The spiritual world of the Abenaki was deeply interwoven with the natural world. They held a profound belief that the physical and spiritual realms were intimately connected, and that all things—animals, plants, rocks, and rivers—possessed a spirit, or Manitou. Their cosmology centered on a supreme creator being, Gici Niwaskw, or the Great Spirit, who was also known as Tabaldak, "The Owner." According to one creation story, the Great Spirit first created the world on the back of a giant turtle named Tolba, and then dreamed all living things into existence.

A central figure in their mythology is Gluskab (also spelled Glooscap), a cultural hero and trickster with supernatural powers. It was Gluskab who was responsible for shaping the world and making it safer for humans. Stories of his exploits explained the landscape and offered moral lessons. In one tale, he tricked a great eagle whose flapping wings caused terrible storms, convincing it to only create tempests occasionally. Another story tells of how the creator-being Odzihózo formed the Champlain Valley, gouging river channels with his fingers and pushing up mountains with his hands, before turning himself into a rock to admire his work for eternity. Mountains were often seen as sacred or animate beings. Mount Monadnock, an isolated peak in the southwest, derives its name from an Abenaki word meaning "mountain that stands alone" or "smooth mountain." The White Mountains were home to powerful spirits, and legend holds that the great sachem Passaconaway, upon his death, was carried to the top of Mount Washington in a flaming sled pulled by wolves to join the Great Spirit.

One of the most powerful and influential Abenaki leaders during the period just before widespread English settlement was Passaconaway, the bashaba, or chief of chiefs, of the Pennacook federation. Residing primarily near present-day Concord, he was a skilled diplomat and was said to possess great spiritual power. Among his people, he was known as a shaman who could "make the water burne, the rocks move, the trees dance." At its peak, his confederacy included numerous subtribes and could field hundreds of warriors. He understood the growing power of the European newcomers and consistently advocated for peace, believing that conflict would lead to his people's destruction. In a famous farewell speech around 1660, he urged his people to maintain peaceful relations with the English, a policy his son and successor, Wonalancet, would try to uphold. The Abenaki, on the cusp of the 17th century, were a resilient and adaptive people, their lives shaped by millennia of experience on the land. They had a complex social structure, a rich spiritual tradition, and a deep, sustainable relationship with the world around them. Their story, written in the names of the rivers and mountains and in the archaeological traces left beneath the soil, forms the foundational chapter of New Hampshire's history.