Perhaps you’ve seen them on a leisurely weekend drive through the countryside – small white structures graced with the sign “Grange Hall.” But you may not realize that the Grange was one of the largest grassroots movements in 19th-century America and that laws associated with the Grangers undergird modern governmental regulation of private enterprise. Although the Grange is now a mere shadow of its former self, its legacy looms large in American history.
The heyday of the Grange (also quaintly known as the “Patrons of Husbandry”) came shortly after the Civil War. Brainchild of Minnesotan Oliver Hudson Kelley, the organization aimed to unite isolated, indebted farmers – North and South – and give them a collective voice at a time when Gilded-Age capitalists were amassing huge fortunes. At its peak in the mid-1870s, the Grange boasted nearly a million members. Subordinates sprang up in Canada as well as in every U.S. state, with about half of Grangers residing in the Midwest.
One goal was mutual self-reliance, supported by a strong desire to cut out intermediaries in business transactions wherever possible. Grange mills, elevators, and warehouses flourished for a short while. Cooperative buying and selling of commodities succeeded for much longer. In looking through a century’s-worth of documents of Minnesota Grange #398 (the “Minnehaha”), I discovered that this subordinate bought apples, sugar, and cheese jointly for decades, and a cheese committee remained in place until World War I. The well-known “Got Milk?” campaign is in some sense a descendant of Granger cooperation.
But many Grange endeavors failed due to a lack of capital and management expertise. The Iowa State Grange bought a patent on a harvester and built its own assembly plant, for instance, but it couldn’t fill orders fast enough and eventually went bankrupt. And, when Grangers attempted to deal directly with Cyrus McCormick on favorable terms, he acerbically responded that he would be glad to dispense with his field agents if farmers would pay cash and set up their own reapers without expert help. In short, the Grangers discovered that the cursed middleman might actually perform a useful service.
Thus, some of what farmers learned from the Grange is what NOT to do. Coalitions fall apart when they try to stretch beyond their skills and expertise, do not deliver what they promise, or fail to successfully align themselves with like-minded, politically powerful entities. Cooperatives consisting of small numbers of individuals with common interests – like today’s cheese, ethanol, sugar beet, and dairy associations that include processors and distributors as well as farmers– have had more success in maintaining economic and political influence than the sprawling Grange. The Farm Bureau has had notable staying power in part because it teamed up with agricultural extension services located in land-grant universities. Although the Grange emphasized agricultural education, it did not cultivate close connections with large public enterprises.
The early Grange stressed a commitment to the acquisition of general knowledge, community service, and fraternalism as well as economic self-sufficiency. Many of the Minnehaha Grange meetings were devoted to local agriculture practices although, amusingly, the members did not resolve the critical question of whether a potato should have one eye or two. But often the gatherings focused on larger issues, such as the admission of women to the University of Minnesota, the shortage and low pay of public school teachers, the need for Minnesota senators to support FDR’s emergency bank bill (FDR was the first US president who was also a Granger), and the admission of China to the United Nations.
The weight placed on outreach, social action, and personal interactions has kept the Grange alive today, although in much-reduced form. The Oliver Hudson Kelley Grange, which until recently met in the Minnehaha Grange hall, offered yoga classes and book groups, sponsored community clean-up events, and held discussions on female leadership and sustainable food production. Subordinate Granges across the country have cancelled most events due to COVID-19, although the Oliver Hudson Kelley Farm harvested and donated 9,000 pounds of produce to local food shelves in fall of 2020.
The Grange has sometimes encountered criticism for its secret rituals — heritage of Kelley’s background as a Freemason – and its overwhelmingly white Protestant roots. Yet it also deserves plaudits for its inclusion of women, which was quite unusual for a 19th-century organization. The first chaplain for the Grange, Aaron Grosh, thought female members would elevate the tone of meetings. Echoing Ole Rolvaag, author of the classic pioneer saga Giants in the Earth, Grosh also worried about farmer wives ending up in the lunatic asylum if they didn’t get out of the house more often. Oliver Kelley’s niece, Caroline Hall, offered another viewpoint: she suggested that women would add stability to the Grange because they would undertake all the routine work. Despite the preponderance of white Protestants among its ranks, the Grange explicitly welcomes all without regard to skin color or religion; a key founder of the Minnehaha Grange, B.C. Yancey, was Black.
The Patrons of Husbandry left a crucial legacy in a series of lawsuits known as the Granger cases. Most dealt with the constitutionality of statutes allowing states to regulate railroad rates (although the lead case of Munn v. Illinois had to do with a grain warehouse). The cases acquired their name from the perception that farmers, particularly Grangers, helped pressure Midwestern legislators into challenging what seemed to be exorbitant prices charged by railroads.
In this significant series of rulings, the U.S. Supreme Court decided that any business “clothed with a public interest” could be regulated by the state for the public good. This was a major departure from previous law, which had tended to enshrine the autonomy of private enterprise. The Granger cases have served as important precedents in landmark opinions on topics ranging from minimum wage, rent control, and environmental regulation to birth control and lunch-counter sit-ins.
As an intriguing side note, the private firms involved in the Granger cases argued that the new laws deprived them of property without due process. Ironically, big businesses, not civil-rights proponents, were thus the first parties to invoke the 14th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. An additional irony: One of the names on a corporate charter granted in 1881 for a new Florida railway was … Oliver Hudson Kelley. Kelley’s involvement with the Carrabelle and Thomasville Railroad Company highlights the complex, ambivalent relationship between traditional agriculture and modern modes of business and transportation. What is more, the so-called “Granger legislation” and related court cases had little to do with direct Grange influence on the political and legal processes, although many Grangers were certainly sided with those who fought for these laws.
Perhaps the most important historical contribution of the Grangers is that they constituted one of the first and strongest American voices questioning the hazards of extreme wealth inequality. The Grangers’ mission and method of operation influenced other farmer associations, labor organizations like the Knights of Labor, and, at least indirectly, modern movements such as Occupy Wall Street. The Grange, like these other groups, calls attention to how the fruits of economic success are distributed. As the Grange Declaration of Purposes states: “We desire a proper equality, equity, and fairness; protection for the weak, restraint upon the strong; in short, justly distributed burdens and justly distributed power. These are American ideas; the very essence of American independence.”
It’s a timely message.