The Great Hanging at Gainesville, Texas: A little-known Civil War mass lynching (updated)

The 2014, privately donated set of marker stones and memorial paver inserts, about 7 blocks west of the courthouse.

Very few non-Texans, and relatively few Texans, know about what is arguably the greatest mass lynching in American history, which happened right here in the Pointy Abandoned Object State.

Even more interesting for American history, though it indirectly involved black folk, white folk were the lynchees as well as the lynchers.

The original, faded state of Texas 1964
marker is a historical whitewash.

It’s the Great Hanging at Gainesville. And, it's been downplayed by the state of Texas and even more by the city of Gainesville.

Unionism in Texas ultimately led to 42 people being killed in Gainesville in October 1862 under a semblance of a cloak of law. The totality makes it the largest mass hanging in America, if not counting a one-day total of 38 Sioux also hanged in 1862.

The Red River area in general, and Cooke County in particular, was one of two hot spots of Unionism leading up to Texas’ secession in February 1861 and after. The lower, southern, part of the Hill Country was another.

In both cases, recent migrations of Germans was part of it. The lower Hill Country is of course known for places like New Braunfels and Boerne. Along the Red, while Muenster had yet to be founded, Germans had migrated to Gainesville already in its early years.

Also, in today’s Texoma land, the Butterfield stagecoach line came to North Texas in the late 1850s. Gainesville’s theater building is called the Butterfield Stage. The stage, crossing the Red River near Denison, connected the state with other parts of the country. Many passengers decided that they didn’t want to ride all the way to California, so they got off to settle in North Texas. Many of these people were from Northern or Southern border states, bringing attitudes on slavery that were intensifying like in Kansas. Some of these settled in and near Gainesville.

The final match for the Gainesville lynchings and other Civil War violence in Texas may have been literal, as the last domino.

The left of the two plaques above. The history of the hanging is backgrounded.

In the summer of 1860, starting in Dallas and spreading to other cities from Weatherford to Jefferson, fires broke out in many North Texas cities. Some people said that new railroad matches had unstable chemicals and were spontaneously combusting. But others, those prone to see conspiratorial actions from Northern sympathizers, claimed the fires were being deliberately set, either by them or by slaves encouraged by them.

Counties along the Red River voted against secession in Texas’ referendum in early 1861. 

With no quick end to the war, the South adopted a draft in 1862, shortly before the North did. It offered exemptions to slaveholders with 20 or more slaves, other special classes of people and men willing to pay $500 for a draft exemption.

A group of 30 Cooke County men signed a petition protesting the slaveholder exemption. Later, they and others began meeting in a peace society, which they called a Union League.

But that wasn’t the only new war hardship.

Feeding a larger army and building more weapons for it required additional taxes across the Confederacy. Those were no more popular than they are today.

And if that wasn’t enough, the Confederate government officially allowed impressment of supplies for the war effort.

That encouraged Unionists more resistant to the Confederacy and the Texas government to try to implement this. In Gainesville, they formed a “peace party.” Members helped hide each others’ supplies from impressment and tried to help young men avoid the draft.

At the end of September, 1862, a spy who had infiltrated some of the meetings claimed an uprising was about to happen. According to this person, the Unionists were going to seize arsenals in Gainesville and Sherman.

So the state declared martial law. James Bourland, who became the villain of the story, was named provost marshal. He asked Gov. Francis Lubbock for troops to help him suppress any possible disorder, but none were available.

So, Bourland created his own militia. Then, based on words of that informer, he created his own court. He started making arrests, charging people with treason.

Bourland appointed Col. William Young, like him a slaveholder, to take charge. Col. Young organized a special court and jury to hear the cases. One special attribute of the trials was that the jury could convict by a simple majority. The court, in case it’s not obvious, had no legal status.

The list of those lynched after various "trials" and "retrials."

After eight convictions, it decided to spit-polish things a little bit and require a two-thirds majority. One previous conviction was reversed, then the court sent those seven to be hanged, some within hours, on Oct. 12-13.

The jury then acquitted several, but faced mob pressure. The jury gave them 14 names of people on their list who had not yet been tried; those men were taken from the jail in Gainesville and lynched them immediately.

Young was killed on Oct. 16, pursuing a group who had killed a man on a creek. Supposedly somewhat of a moderator, Young’s death led to more howls for blood.

The jury reversed the acquittals of 19 people without any new testimony, let alone new charges, a further illegality. They were then hanged. Two others were shot fatally while allegedly trying to escape.

Some time later, five others were lynched in Decatur. And, German-Americans in the lower Hill Country, after being intercepted trying to flee to Mexico and losing a battle to Confederate troops, had several of their wounded shot after surrender.

Other lynching hangings happened in today’s Delta County, not a separate county at that time. The thickets it had between the North and South Sulphur rivers made it a hideout spot. It led to desertions from the Confederate Army, which led to ever more intrusive searches for deserters across North Texas with some animosities continuing after the end of the war, again, in today’s Delta County.

The Cooke County Courthouse
and Civil War memorial, where
the Great Hanging memorial
should also be placed.

Gainesville has shied away from openly acknowledging the Great Hanging. The state erected a pink granite marker in 1964. But the city did nothing at that time or for years after.

“Up until six or seven years ago, people in Gainesville didn’t want others to know about this,” according to Paris Junior College professor Kent Hanushek at a presentation in Sulphur Springs in 2018. “But since 2012, the leaders of Gainesville have tried to recognize their past.”

However, such recognition, on the official level, has been halting.

Gainesville’s then-mayor pushed to have a 150^th-anniversary commemoration day killed. Gainesville, by this time, had built its Medal of Honor park, and started holding a weekend event for Medal of Honor winners. Rand McNally had named it that year as the most patriotic small town in America.

Larger, much more detailed and historically complete markers were erected in 2014. But, they were private efforts. And, while the new markers are part of what is purportedly a city park, they’re on totally undeveloped land. The land was dedicated to the city after it made no offer for placement itself. The “named” portion of that park, a block west, would be a better spot for them.

Texas Observer, in a long-form piece shortly after the 2014 private markers were erected, notes the "shabbiness" of the site, among other things.

An even better spot would be seven blocks further west, on the grounds of the Cooke County Courthouse, next to the Civil War Memorial, as shown at left.

Unfortunately, I have no doubt that Cooke County has as little eagerness to commemorate the Great Hanging as does the city of Gainesville, and for similar reasons.

And, a note to them, especially the city of Gainesville.

Real patriotism, per Rand McNally voting you the most patriotic small town in America, doesn't mean whitewashing less than ideal portions of your past. And, besides that, the Unionist side could be sold as idealism itself, if you want to do so, whether out of true patriotism or chasing the Benjamins.

UPDATE

That said, at least the site has a little more respect.

There's a brief annual commemoration day ceremony. And this year, on Oct. 12, it had some added events. (I already had plans to go to Fort Worth for the reopened Amon Carter. I could have waited two weeks, but ...)

The tour of graves, I can do on my own; I don't know how much of a lecture accompanied it.

And, per the photo above and the one at left?

A memorial bell was dedicated, and rung.

And, per the story, and just "behind" the bottom of the picture above? Two benches have been added.

I gave the bell a soft thump or four with my knuckles a Saturday later, when taking these photos.