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Little Crow (Eastman's Biography)

Little Crow (Taoyateduta, also known as Little Crow III, l. c. 1810-1863) was a Dakota Sioux chief best known as the leader of the Mdewakanton Dakota (Santee) Sioux during the Dakota War of 1862. After years of trying to maintain peaceful relations with the Euro-Americans, despite every broken treaty, Little Crow was left with no choice but to declare war.

The Dakota War (18 August to 26 September 1862) was a direct result of the failure of the US government to keep the promises made in the Treaty of Mendota in 1851, which promised the Mdewakanton and Wahpekute Sioux over $1 million for their lands; money the Sioux never saw. In 1858, Little Crow led a delegation to Washington, D.C., to address the problem, but this only resulted in the forced surrender of even more land. By 1862, because of his participation in these negotiations, Little Crow had fallen out of favor with his people.

Dakota War & Death

By this time, the US government had made more promises they had no intention of keeping regarding housing, stipends, educational and agricultural programs, and medical care in return for even more land. Many of the Dakota were starving to death and restricted to a land allotment of 20 miles (32 km) of poor soil. On 17 August 1862, four Dakota killed five settlers during an argument and appealed to their chiefs for protection. The chiefs then sought the support of Little Crow in declaring war. Even though he did not wish to fight, feeling it was futile, he agreed to die with them and launched the Dakota War the next morning.

He survived the conflict only to be killed on 3 July 1863 by the farmer Nathan Lamson and his son Chauncey, who did not even know who he was. Little Crow was picking raspberries with his son, Wowinape, when they were seen and fired upon. Wowinape fled after his father was killed, and Lamson reported the shooting to others, who mutilated Little Crow's body, dragging it through the main street of Hutchinson, Minnesota, and throwing it into the offal pit of the slaughterhouse.

When Wowinape was captured on 28 July and told the authorities of Little Crow's death, only then did the people of Hutchinson realize whose body was in the pit. Lamson was then awarded $500.00 for his service in killing the Dakota leader, and Chauncey received $75.00 for Little Crow's scalp. The scalp was given to the Minnesota Historical Society in 1868, Little Crow's skull in 1896, and his assembled remains were put on display until 1971 when Wowinape's son, Jesse Wakeman, negotiated their return to the family, and these were then buried according to proper Dakota funerary rites.

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Sailor Moon: Ukiyo-e Style - art by Littlecrow

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We’re gonna have to stay a while longer... Stay strong! 💓

#davidgilson #david gilson #confinement #stayhome #staystrong #courage #restezchezvous #petitcorbeau #littlecrow #petitecureuil #littlesquirrel

George W. Crooks' Account of the Dakota War of 1862

George W. Crooks' Account of the Dakota War of 1862 is a narrative of the events leading up to the "Minnesota Massacre" known as the Dakota War of 1862, given by the Dakota gentleman George W. Crooks (l. c. 1856-1947) in 1937 when he was 81 years old. The account is archived with the Minnesota Historical Society, St. Paul, Minnesota.

Mass Hanging of Dakota Sioux in Mankato, Minnesota

Library of Congress (Public Domain)

Crooks lived at Crow Creek near Redwood Falls, modern-day Minnesota, in 1862 when hostilities broke out between the Dakota and White settlers on 18 August 1862. Crooks was around six years old at the time, and his parents were among the Dakota who refused to join in the uprising, which was led, reluctantly, by Chief Little Crow (l. c. 1810-1863). Little Crow understood the revolt would be futile and many lives would be lost, but his people were starving due to failed promises of the US government and the underhanded practices of White business owners in the region.

According to the Sioux physician and author Charles A. Eastman (also known as Ohiyesa, l. 1858-1939), the Dakota Sioux guide and scout Tamahay (l. c. 1776-1864) warned Little Crow and those advocating for war against pursuing this course as it could only end badly for all involved. Little Crow already knew this, however, but felt he had been driven to a position where he had no other choice but to fight back.

Although Crooks was quite young at the time of the Dakota War (18 August to 26 September 1862), his account is considered a reliable primary document on the event which cost hundreds of lives on both sides and culminated in the forced relocation of the Eastern Dakota Sioux from Minnesota to South Dakota and the largest mass execution in US history when 38 Dakota Sioux men were hanged at Mankato, Minnesota, for their participation in the uprising in December 1862.

The Dakota War of 1862 & Crooks' Account

The Dakota ("friend" or "ally") Sioux nation of North America is divided between the Western Dakota and the Eastern Dakota, and the latter includes the Mdewakanton band, which, in 1862, was led by Little Crow (and which Tamahay was also a part of). The Mdewakanton Dakota of the Minnesota River Valley had surrendered most of their land to the US government through the Treaty of Mendota in 1851 and, in return, had been promised over $1 million, which was never paid.

They were removed from their ancestral lands and confined to a narrow strip along the Minnesota River where they were encouraged to become farmers and give up their semi-nomadic lifestyle of hunting and following the buffalo herds. They were given a stipend to pay for supplies from local merchants, but, as Crooks notes, the White shopkeepers frequently cheated the Dakota – who lacked understanding of the value of paper money – when they came to their stores, and this, along with a poor harvest in 1861, left the Mdewakanton Dakota starving.

People Escaping from the Minnesota Massacre of 1862

Adrian J. Ebell (Public Domain)

On 17 August 1862, four young Dakota, who had failed to find food during a hunting expedition, killed five White settlers near Acton, Minnesota, and, although Little Crow advocated for a peaceful resolution in handing them over to authorities, he was overruled, and the war-faction of the assembly called on him to lead his people in righting the wrongs done to them. According to Eastman, Tamahay also called for peace, citing the futility of earlier conflicts such as Pontiac's War and the Black Hawk War, but was ignored.

The war party struck at the Lower Sioux Agency the next day, 18 August 1862, murdering merchants who had intentionally cheated the Dakota as well as any other Whites they could find and any Dakota who took the side of the pioneer settlers. As Crooks notes, some of the Dakota who had been taken prisoner along with the White settlers, managed to get a message to General Henry H. Sibley (l. 1811-1891), who rescued the captive Dakota and Whites.

Hostilities continued until the Battle of Wood Lake on 23 September 1862 when Little Crow was defeated by US government forces. Afterwards, 303 Dakota men were sentenced to death by hanging, but, after a review of the case by President Abraham Lincoln, this was reduced to 39 convictions. Crooks cites this number, but, actually, one of the men was granted a reprieve, so 38 Dakota were hanged for their part in the uprising on 26 December 1862, the largest mass execution in a single day in US history. Little Crow survived the conflict but was killed by a local farmer in July 1863 who did not even know who he was, only that he was a Native American.

Dakota survivors of the conflict were deprived even of the small strip they had been granted when the US authorities had pushed them onto the reservation by the Minnesota River and were sent to Iowa and then to a reservation in South Dakota. In 2021, the Minnesota government and Minnesota Historical Society gave the lands fought over back to the Mdewakanton Dakota Sioux and offered an apology. The Mdewakanton Dakota continue to remember the Dakota War of 1862 and the hanging of the 38 freedom fighters annually, as Crooks, in his narrative, strongly suggests they should.

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Siempre fuiste el amor de mi vida pero tuve miedo y te deje partir, te amé desde la distancia como siempre lo hice, te aplaudí tus logros por qué estaba orgullosa de que lograras los sueños que teníamos juntos

#littlecrow

Feliz. Navidad mi querido ruiseñor

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Un cuervo negro

La mañana era fresca, un día como cualquiera, el sol susurraba su pequeño soplido que apenas se sentía su calor, al mirar por la ventana apenas podía notarlo, ahí estaba un pequeño cuervo sentado en el árbol, se notaba en su rostro que la noche había sido larga, era un pequeño punto negro en aquel colorido paisaje. Ese discreto error me cautivo, me quede mirándolo, ahí postrado con esa cara inexpresiva, era interesante ver tan hermoso capricho. Me sentía extraño, que extraña era esa sensación de curiosidad, quería quedarme ahí, mirándolo el tiempo que fuera necesario, pero ¿cuánto tiempo era este? Y la duda más grande ¿por qué lo haría?, ¿Que tan importante puede ser un pequeño cuervo para ganarse mi interés? Todas esas preguntas se respondieron en el momento que volvió hacia mí, ese rostro inexpresivo se había trasformado, toda esa muralla de frialdad se había derretido. Ahí estaban esos ojos llorosos, ese dolor contenido, ese espíritu corrompido. Fueron los segundos más dolorosos que había sentido, me había roto corazón ver su dolor, solo un pequeño movimiento se produjo en ese cuerpo carroñero, miro al cielo y cayo. La sensación de desesperación me invadió, el miedo atravesó mi pecho con su fría mano hasta que se acurruco en mi corazón, salte sobre el fregadero y atreverse la ventana del jardín y corrí hacia el cuervo, parte de mi vestimenta se rasgó entre el rosal, allegar a él lo vi postrado en la maleza, las alas rotas y el cuerpo lastimado, mis rodillas tambalearon al ver tan terrible escena, mis ojos contenían una fina capa de cristal que contenía el mar de lágrimas. Tome al cuervo entre mis manos y lo sostuve en contra de mi pecho, entre a la casa, tire las cosas de la mesa para recostarlo, no tenía ni la mínima idea de cómo salvarlo, tome lo que encontré de la casa y me dispuse ayudar, limpie cada una de las heridas, su sangre se perdía en la oscuridad del plumaje, se camuflajeaba con demasiada premura, mis manos torpes temblaban por la angustia que albergaba. Al terminar de realizar todo lo que estaba en mis manos, la noche ya había tocado a mi puerta, la muerte se había introducido escurridizo tambaleaba en los pasillos, esperando pacientemente a su nueva compañera. Tome al cuervo y lo recosté en la cama, me quede ahí sentado, mirándolo, me convertí en un pero fiel cuidando a su amo, solo quería estar ahí cuando fuera su fin.

#LittleCrow