By Timothy Page

Deep in Abenaki folklore exists a mysterious race of beings known as the Manogemassak, or “Shadow People.” These giants were said to dwell in the mountainous regions of what is now northern New England, particularly around the White Mountains of New Hampshire and the Green Mountains of Vermont (Moondancer & Strong, 2007). As integral figures in Western Abenaki traditional beliefs, they represent one of the most enigmatic elements of northeastern Native American folklore.

According to Abenaki oral traditions recorded by ethnographer Gordon Day, the Manogemassak were described as enormous humanoid creatures who lived in parallel with the Abenaki people but remained largely unseen. Their name derives from the Abenaki words “manoge” (giant) and “massak” (shadow), reflecting their elusive nature (Day, 1978). Traditional accounts describe them as being several times taller than human beings, with dark, indistinct forms that seemed to blend with the shadows of the forest and mountain slopes.

Frederick Matthew Wiseman, in his comprehensive study of Abenaki culture, notes that the Manogemassak were believed to inhabit cave systems and remote mountain valleys, particularly in areas considered sacred to the Abenaki people (Wiseman, 2001). These locations often coincided with traditional hunting grounds and areas of spiritual significance.

Unlike many other supernatural beings in Native American lore, the Manogemassak were not considered malevolent. Joseph Bruchac, an Abenaki storyteller and author, explains that they were viewed as guardian spirits of the mountains who occasionally helped lost hunters find their way home (Bruchac, 2005). This protective role distinguished them from other giant figures in northeastern Native American mythology, such as the more threatening Chenoo or Giwakwa.

Anthropologist Frank Speck documented accounts from Abenaki elders in the early 20th century describing the Manogemassak as leaving enormous footprints in the snow and creating unexplained sounds in the forest. These beings were said to be visible only at twilight or dawn, appearing as dark silhouettes against the sky (Speck, 1940). Their appearance was often associated with significant weather changes or important community events.

Colin Calloway’s research suggests that Manogemassak stories may have served as a way for Abenaki people to maintain connections with sacred landscapes during the period of European colonization (Calloway, 1990). As Abenaki communities faced displacement and cultural disruption, these traditions helped preserve their spiritual relationship with ancestral territories.

Contemporary Abenaki scholars and storytellers continue to share Manogemassak traditions as part of their cultural heritage. Lisa Brooks, in her analysis of indigenous New England histories, suggests that these stories reflect sophisticated indigenous understanding of ecological relationships and the importance of maintaining harmony with the natural world (Brooks, 2018).

The Manogemassak legends continue to play a vital role in contemporary Abenaki culture, particularly in matters of land rights and cultural preservation. These ancient stories have taken on new significance in modern legal and political contexts, where they serve as evidence of long-standing connections to traditional territories.

The locations associated with Manogemassak stories often correspond to traditional Abenaki territories and resources. As Lisa Brooks (2018) notes, these narratives helped establish and maintain cultural connections to specific geographical features, particularly in the White Mountains and Green Mountains regions. By embedding these spiritual beings in particular landscapes, the stories effectively created a sacred geography that reinforces Abenaki territorial claims.

In modern land rights cases, indigenous communities have used traditional stories and spiritual connections to demonstrate their historical relationship with specific territories. Frederick Wiseman (2001) documents how Manogemassak narratives have been presented as evidence of long-standing Abenaki presence in disputed areas, particularly in Vermont and New Hampshire. These stories provide what courts recognize as “cultural continuity” – demonstrating ongoing relationships between the Abenaki and specific landscapes.

The preservation of Manogemassak traditions during the colonial period represented a form of cultural resistance. Colin Calloway (1990) argues that by maintaining these stories, Abenaki communities asserted their continuing relationship with lands that were being seized by European settlers. This spiritual and cultural connection has become particularly relevant in modern sovereignty discussions.

Recent land rights cases have referenced Manogemassak traditions as part of larger arguments about Abenaki cultural patrimony. In federal recognition proceedings, these stories have been used to demonstrate continuous cultural traditions and land relationships (Bruchac, J., 2005). This modern application of ancient traditions illustrates how indigenous knowledge systems continue to adapt and remain relevant in contemporary legal and political contexts.

Margaret Bruchac’s research (2005) reveals how Manogemassak legends encoded traditional ecological knowledge and land management practices. These stories often contained specific instructions about sustainable resource use and seasonal land access, supporting modern Abenaki arguments for traditional resource rights and environmental protection. This aspect of the traditions has gained renewed importance in current discussions about environmental conservation and indigenous land management practices.

Some may disparage or demon these beliefs in something more than that which one can touch, dissect, or classify. However, the lessons that are passed down in these stories and traditions have a real place in bringing the wisdom of our forebears into the future. Traditions are the teachings of those who came before and survived to tell us of their ways of life. We would be fools to assume they contain all there is with nothing left to learn, but, as we see, we would be equally foolhardy to pretend that they have no benefit today.