Lake Winnipesaukee: A Ramble Down Two Hundred Years of Lakeside Livin'
- Randy Miller
- Mar 23
- 4 min read
Written in my best impression of an old yankee...
Well now, if you've ever sat on a porch rockin' chair with a cold lemonade, gazin' out at that big ol' stretch of water known as Lake Winnipesaukee, you know what folks mean when they call it the "Smile of the Great Spirit." That's what the Abenaki people used to call her—Winnipesaukee—and the old legend goes somethin' like this: a chief's daughter fell head over heels for a fella from the wrong side of the lake. On their weddin' day the skies were gray as a November mornin', but right as they paddled off together, the clouds split open and the sun poured down. The chief just smiled and said, "Look there—the Great Spirit's smilin' on 'em." And ain't that just the way this lake feels? Like she's got a grin for anybody who comes to visit.
She's New Hampshire's biggest lake—71 square miles of clear, cold water, 258 islands, 288 miles of shoreline, and enough nooks and crannies to keep a body explorin' for a lifetime. Glaciers carved her out way back when, then flipped her drainage the wrong way around. But enough geology talk; let's sit a spell and talk about the last couple hundred years the way old-timers might over coffee at the general store.
Back in the 1700s, before the Revolution even got cookin', Royal Governor John Wentworth built himself a summer place up in Wolfeboro. Folks say that made Wolfeboro America's oldest summer resort—rich city families headin' north to escape the heat long before anybody invented air conditionin'. Then in 1652, some Massachusetts fellas carved their mark on Endicott Rock down at The Weirs to claim the boundary. That rock's still there today, one of the oldest public scratchin's in New England.
Come the 1800s, the lake turned into a regular highway. The first steamboat chugged out in 1833—the little Belknap—and before long, sidewheelers were haulin' folks, mail, lumber, you name it. Railroads showed up around 1848, and suddenly city slickers from Boston and New York could ride the train right to the water's edge. Grand hotels popped up like mushrooms after rain, especially down at Weirs Beach. Wealthy families built fancy cottages on private islands and spent whole summers fishin', sailin', and dancin' under the stars.
That era's captured perfect in shots like this one of the famous Lady of the Lake tied up at the dock, with folks loadin' wood and gettin' ready for the next run—pure steamboat days.
And here's the granddaddy of 'em all, the original Mount Washington loaded to the gills with passengers, smoke pilin' high as she pulls away from the pier. You can almost hear the whistle and the crowd cheerin'.
The shoreline at Weirs Beach looked a lot like this back then—birch trees, rocky beach, hotels and pavilions huggin' the water, and a steamer headin' out across the lake. Folks would stroll the shore, listen to the waves, and watch the boats come and go.
The lake was very busy back then—ferry lines crisscrossin', railroads huggin' the shore. And speakin' of boats, the granddaddy of 'em all was the Mount Washington. Launched in 1872, she was the queen of the lake, carryin' passengers on daily runs and even hostin' the very first intercollegiate boat race in the country right here in 1852—Harvard beat Yale by two boat lengths in Center Harbor.
Folks weren't always gettin' along, mind you. There was this ruckus called the "Winnipesaukee Water War" from 1845 to 1859. Downriver mill owners in Massachusetts kept raisin' and lowerin' the water with dams to run their wheels, floodin' farms and cottages up here. Locals got so riled they once tried to blow up a dam with gunpowder. Eventually the courts sorted it out, but it sure showed how precious this water was to everybody.
Then came the hard times. Fires tore through Weirs Beach more than once—big one in 1924 wiped out the Grand Hotel. And on a cold December night in 1939, the original Mount Washington caught fire at her dock and burned to the waterline. But New Hampshire folks don't quit easy. Captain Leander Lavallee bought an old Lake Champlain steamer hull, cut it into pieces, shipped it by rail, and pieced her back together right here in Lakeport. The new M/S Mount Washington slid into the water in 1940 and she's still carryin' folks today—longer now, after a stretch in '82.
During the war, they even took her engines for the Navy, so they built the little Sophie C. in '45 to keep the mail runnin'. That mailboat still chugs around deliverin' letters to island folks every summer—only floating post office left in the country, they say.
The 20th century brought cars replacin' trains, summer camps sproutin' up everywhere, and families comin' back year after year. Conservation picked up steam too—folks realized they had to look after the water if they wanted it to stay pretty.
These days, the lake's still the same friendly giant she always was. You can hop aboard the Mount for a dinner cruise, watch the seaplanes land on Alton Bay's ice runway in winter, or just drop a line for bass and trout. The Ice-Out Contest—guessin' when the ice'll break enough for the Mount to reach every port—goes back to the 1850s and folks still bet on it every spring. Laconia Motorcycle Week roars through, Weirs Beach fills up with families, and those private islands like Governors and Bear still hold summer getaways that feel like steppin' back in time.
So next time you're drivin' through the Lakes Region, pull over, breathe that piney air, and listen to the water lappin'. Lake Winnipesaukee's been smilin' on visitors for two hundred years and more—through steamboat days, hard winters, big fires, and quiet sunsets. She's seen governors, rowers, romantics, and regular folks like you and me. And if you sit still long enough, she'll smile at you too.
Come on up sometime. Grab a bench by the shore, watch the sun dip behind the Belknaps, and let the old lake tell you her stories. She's got plenty.
(All images are historic public domain views from sources like the Library of Congress Detroit Publishing Co. collection, New York Public Library, and period postcards. For the latest on cruises, ice-out, or findin' your own spot on the lake, check with the Lakes Region folks)
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