Lately, I’ve turned to A History of Minnesota, Volume III, by William Watts Folwell to learn more about settler-colonialism in the aftermath of the U.S.–Dakota War of 1862. These were formative years—marked not only by displacement and resettlement, but also by unexpected environmental catastrophes that tested the endurance of newly arrived settlers. One of the most dramatic of these was the grasshopper plague that swept across the state between 1873 and 1877.

A Storm of Wings

It began on June 12, 1873, in southwestern Minnesota when farmers saw what looked like a snowstorm heading toward their fields. But the flurry wasn’t snow—it was insects. “Their flight,” recalled one observer, “may be likened to an immense snowstorm… a vast cloud of animated specks, glittering against the sun.” It was a swarm of Rocky Mountain locusts, descending on young fields of wheat, oats, corn, and barley.

In just hours, crops were stripped down to the soil. For many, these were the first or second harvests after establishing homesteads—crucial for survival. As the locusts laid eggs deep in the soil, it became clear this wasn’t a one-time disaster. Over the next five years, the grasshoppers returned, spreading farther across the state and devastating hundreds of thousands of acres.

Desperate Measures

Farmers tried everything they could to fight back. They beat the insects with flails, dragged ropes through fields, set fire to prairie grass, and even filled ditches with coal tar. Some built “hopper dozers”—sheet metal contraptions smeared with tar or molasses to catch and burn the pests. But nothing worked.

Counties offered some aid, though rural governments were often ill-equipped for widespread relief. According to one 1875 report to Governor Cushman K. Davis, up to 1,500 farmers were left “utterly impoverished.” Yet skepticism lingered. Some questioned whether the damage was as severe as reported—echoes of the social tensions around who deserved assistance and why.

State Response: From Charity to Compulsion

The state cycled through three governors during the plague years. Governors Horace Austin and Davis offered limited state-funded aid and called on citizens for charitable donations. But John S. Pillsbury, elected in 1876, took a different approach. Convinced that frontier hardship was inevitable, he refused to provide direct relief. Instead, he pushed for eradication.

One of the more controversial measures came in 1877: every able-bodied man in infested counties was required to spend one day a week for five weeks destroying grasshopper eggs—or pay a fine of one dollar per day. The law, passed in March, was part of a broader effort that included digging deep ditches, rolling over larvae, and burning hatching grounds.

In a sign of the times, the legislature even called for divine assistance. On April 9, 1877, Pillsbury proclaimed April 26 a day of prayer. That spring, a late snowstorm damaged the locust eggs. By August, the swarms were gone. Whether it was coincidence or providence, the relief was tangible.

Aftermath and Legacy

The locusts left behind more than ruined crops. They etched themselves into the cultural memory of the region. Laura Ingalls Wilder famously fictionalized the experience in On the Banks of Plum Creek, while Ole Edvart Rølvaag’s Giants in the Earth captured the psychological toll on frontier families.

Though Minnesota would not see a plague of that scale again until the 1930s, the 1870s crisis reminded settlers that the land they had fought to control could still wield power over them—power as indifferent and sweeping as the wings of a locust cloud.

Sources:

Cartwright, R. L.. “Grasshopper Plagues, 1873–1877.” MNopedia, Minnesota Historical Society. https://www3.mnhs.org/mnopedia/search...

Folwell, William Wats. A History of Minnesota. Vol. 3. St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1926.

Colin Mustful is a celebrated author and historian whose novel Reclaiming Mni Sota won the Midwest Book Award for Literary/Contemporary/Historical Fiction. With a Master of Arts in history and a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing, Mustful has penned five historical novels that delve into the complex eras of settler-colonialism and Native American displacement. He is also the founder and editor of History Through Fiction, an independent press dedicated to publishing historical narratives rooted in factual events and characters. Committed to bringing significant historical tales to light, Mustful collaborates with authors as a traditional and hybrid publisher. Residing in Minneapolis, Minnesota, he enjoys running, playing soccer, and believes deeply in the power of understanding history to shape a just and sustainable future.