This post was written by guest blogger Charles Pederson. If you would like to write for our blog, contact us at info@scottcountyhistory.org
People long for the “good old days” when folks got along. We may look back on the “olden days” as simpler times, but the fact is that the good old days were tough. Scott County is no exception. It featured a decades-long rivalry, complete with “palace intrigue,” that began at the foundation of Minnesota itself. The titanic struggle: to control the center of power, the county seat.
What’s the big deal with a county seat, anyway? Every time a new county is formed, a county seat is designated—and the jockeying to obtain that status can cause powerful feelings of competition among municipalities. The seat may or may not be the largest town in a county, but it is usually where county buildings and the courthouse are located. In fact, the term ‘county seat’ is a shortening of the expression ‘county seat of justice.’ The county seat provides the court system, law enforcement, and other county services. Normally, county seats are created through voting. Why has rivalry in some places escalated to physical violence, intimidation, or fraud in these county seat “wars”? Is it more than the fact that living in or near the county seat can increase property values?
New County, New County Seat
Counties (or their equivalents in other states; for example, Louisiana has parishes and Alaska has boroughs) underlie U.S. administrative organization. Typically, counties are laid out before statehood, during the territory period. Most states therefore already had counties when they entered the Union. Based on population, many early counties covered vast tracts of sparsely settled land. Those large counties filled up with settlers and were eventually broken up into smaller counties, each with its own county seat.
Scott County followed the same general trajectory. On March 5, 1853, due to increasing population, a portion of land was separated from the western edge of Dakota County to become Scott County. About a year later, five appointed county board members voted that Shakopee become the county seat and be the location of county buildings. To cement that decision, the first county court term was held in Holmes Hall, named after Thomas Holmes, one of the first permanent White settlers in the Shakopee area.
It was decided: Shakopee was the county seat. Not everyone, though, agreed with the decision. Over the next six or seven decades, some residents in Jordan resented the decision and consequent status quo. At the founding of the state, they began the first of many attempts to gain for themselves the benefits of hosting the county seat.
First Attempt to Move the County Seat: 1859
By 1856, a building had been rented in Shakopee for use as a courthouse. The next year, bonds were issued in an attempt to raise $10,000 to build a dedicated courthouse and other county structures. This was all meant to reinforce Shakopee’s location as the county seat. Accordingly, construction began, but more than a year later, the buildings still had not been completed. The money ran out. It was suggested that the county was nearly bankrupt through incompetent efforts to build the courthouse. A popular history of Scott County stated that “it was even suggested that the buildings in their incomplete state be sold . . . to discharge part of the heavy liabilities of the county.”
Residents of Jordan saw the lack of a permanent courthouse, the poorly constructed county buildings, and the perceived incompetent leadership as an opportunity to gain the county seat and its benefits for themselves. In 1859, the year following statehood, a bill was introduced in the new Minnesota legislature to move the county seat from Shakopee to Jordan. This caused panic in Shakopee, and civic leaders went into emergency mode. One historian noted that hurriedly raised private donations allowed “the unfinished buildings [to be] enclosed and the county officers located therein, although in small and inconvenient quarters. By these measures the [county seat] change was overruled and Shakopee continued as the county seat.”
The panic in Shakopee abated, but Jordan was far from satisfied with the outcome of events.
Second Attempt: 1872–1873
Discontented Jordanites again plotted to move the county seat. A legislative representative from Jordan, Joseph Chadderdon, introduced a new bill in the state legislature to move the seat to Jordan. The Scott County Mirror newspaper reported that the bill required that “within sixty days after [passage of bill, officeholders would] remove to and hold their office in the said village of Jordan.” The Mirror later ran a chart describing $10,000 that had been deposited in escrow for the move, as well as an additional $20,000 in pledges on passage of the bill. The bill passed the house and senate, but Governor Horace Austin (1870–1874) refused to sign it without further amendment. The bill was amended, and Austin supported it. Nonetheless, no records showed it advancing through the legislature.
Despite state inaction, a vote on the issue was set to be held in the county. One historian reported on “a vigorous contest [that] ensued, decided in favor of Shakopee by a majority of ninety-two votes” (969 in favor of moving, and 1,061 against). An opinion writer in the Mirror put a good face on the defeat by insisting that it was actually a victory: “We are just as sure to get the county seat in the next contest . . .as the sun is to rise and set.”
Check back for Part 2 of this ongoing and weirdly fascinating story. It’s full of wrinkles and surprise plot twists!