Minnesota Then
At 10 a.m. on December 26, 1862, a signal rang out above Mankato's public square, and the executioner cut the rope dropping the platform beneath thirty-eight condemned men. Thirty-seven fell to their death; according to some accounts, one rope failed, and the man fell to the ground before being quickly re-hanged. This single-day mass execution, the largest in U.S. history, was the violent end of the US-Dakota Conflict, though its roots stretched back decades.
Treaties in 1837, 1851, and 1858 had compelled the Dakota to surrender millions of acres of ancestral land in exchange for annual annuity payments. Those payments arrived later and later each year, and when they did come, politicians and traders, often demanding compensation far beyond the value of goods delivered, were paid first. The Dakota, once able to rely on the region's abundant wildlife for food and fur trading, found the territory depleted and themselves dependent on the very settlers who now controlled it.
Some Dakota attempted adaptation, cutting their hair, changing their clothes, embracing certain white customs. Others resisted, resenting the relentless pressure of new settlers crowding in around them. By summer 1862, distrust and hunger had made the region volatile. Annuity payments were again delayed in July, and rumors swirled that the Civil War had drained away the gold owed to them, or that the government would pay in paper currency, a meaningless gesture to a people who dealt in barter.
On August 4, a large contingent of armed Dakota descended on the Upper Agency at Yellow Medicine. Their people were hungry and malnourished, and the men demanded food on credit rather than continue waiting for promised annuities. Eventually the warehouse door opened and supplies were distributed, a temporary measure that settled nothing.
Days later at the Lower Agency, Dakota leader Little Crow requested the same relief. His request was denied. Trader Andrew Myrick, known for his hostility, responded with contempt. Accounts differ on his exact words; one early report had him saying the Dakota could "eat grass or their own dung," though the phrase was later sanitized. Little Crow, long a supporter of peace, lamented his people's hunger but faced mounting pressure from young warriors who were furious and desperate. The insult hardened positions on both sides.
On August 17, four young Dakota returning from an unsuccessful hunt stopped at a settler's farm to steal eggs. When confronted, they killed the farmer and his family. The killings forced a wider conflict. Dakota warriors struck settlements along the Minnesota River, hoping to surprise settlers before they could counterattack. Over the next five weeks, more than 500 white settlers and roughly 150 Dakota were killed.
The decisive clash came September 23 at the Battle of Wood Lake, where U.S. forces defeated the Dakota. Three days later, Dakota leaders surrendered at Camp Release, though Little Crow and some warriors fled west.
General Henry Sibley immediately convened a five-man military commission at Camp Release to try captured Dakota for murder and alleged atrocities. The trials were hasty and deeply flawed. Most lasted only minutes, defendants were given little or no chance to mount a defense, and many convictions rested on thin evidence. The commission heard 393 cases, convicted 323 defendants, and sentenced 303 to death. Critics condemned the proceedings as a miscarriage of justice.
Bishop Henry Whipple, an advocate for Native rights, reviewed the trial records and appealed to President Lincoln. Lincoln first requested the names of those convicted of rape but was given only two. He then demanded the names of those proven to have murdered civilians, reviewed the records himself, and approved thirty-nine executions. One man received a last-minute reprieve, leaving thirty-eight to hang.
On the day after Christmas, about 4,000 men, women, and children crowded around a 24-by-24-foot gallows while fourteen hundred soldiers surrounded the square. Executioner William Duley, a soldier who had lost family in the conflict, cut the supporting ropes. Before taking their places on the gallows, many of the condemned had sung a Dakota hymn together.
In the chaos that followed, it was discovered that two men had been hanged by mistake. Wicaŋḣpi Wastedaŋpi, called Caske, had stepped forward when another man's name was called. Wasicuŋ, a white man adopted by the Dakota who had been acquitted, was also among the dead.
After the war, the Dakota were forcibly removed from Minnesota. Thousands were exiled to reservations in South Dakota, their traditional way of life shattered. The conflict and its aftermath marked the beginning of decades of suffering for the Dakota people, a legacy that subsequent generations continue to reckon with.