The Collapse of the Granger Movement
The first phase of the agrarian crusade, which centered around and took
its distinctive name from the Grange, reached its highwater mark in
1874. Early in the next year the tide began to ebb. The number of
Granges decreased rapidly during the remainder of the decade, and of
over twenty thousand in 1874 only about four thousand were alive in
1880.
Several causes contributed to this sudden decline. Any organization
which grows so rapidly is prone to decay with equal rapidity; the slower
growths are better rooted and are more likely to reach fruition. So with
the Grange. Many farmers had joined the order, attracted by its novelty
and vogue; others joined the organization in the hope that it would
prove a panacea for all the ills that agriculture is heir to and then
left it in disgust when they found its success neither immediate nor
universal. Its methods of organization, too, while admirably adapted to
arousing enthusiasm and to securing new chapters quickly, did not make
for stability and permanence. The Grange deputy, as the organizer was
termed, did not do enough of what the salesman calls "follow-up work."
He went into a town, persuaded an influential farmer to go about with
him in a house-to-house canvass, talked to the other farmers of the
vicinity, stirred them up to interest and excitement, organized a
Grange, and then left the town. If he happened to choose the right
material, the chapter became an active and flourishing organization; if
he did not choose wisely, it might drag along in a perfunctory existence
or even lapse entirely. Then, too, the deputy's ignorance of local
conditions sometimes led him to open the door to the farmers' enemies.
There can be little doubt that insidious harm was worked through the
admission into the Grange of men who were farmers only incidentally and
whose "interest in agriculture" was limited to making profits from the
farmer rather than from the farm. As D. Wyatt Aiken, deputy for the
Grange in the Southern States and later member of the executive
committee of the National Grange, shrewdly commented, "Everybody wanted
to join the Grange then; lawyers, to get clients; doctors, to get
customers; Shylocks, to get their pound of flesh; and sharpers, to catch
the babes in the woods."
Not only the members who managed thus to insinuate themselves into the
order but also the legitimate members proved hard to control. With that
hostility to concentrated authority which so often and so lamentably
manifests itself in a democratic body, the rank and file looked with
suspicion upon the few men who constituted the National Grange. The
average farmer was interested mainly in local issues, conditions, and
problems, and looked upon the National Grange not as a means of helping
him in local affairs, but as a combination of monopolists who had taken
out a patent on the local grange and forced him to pay a royalty in
order to enjoy its privileges. The demand for reduction in the power of
the National Grange led to frequent attempts to revise the constitution
in the direction of decentralization; and the revisions were such as
merely to impair the power of the National Grange without satisfying the
discontented members.
Of all the causes of the rapid collapse of the Granger movement, the
unfortunate experience which the farmers had in their attempts at
business coöperation was probably chief. Their hatred of the middleman
and of the manufacturer was almost as intense as their hostility to the
railroad magnate; quite naturally, therefore, the farmers attempted to
use their new organizations as a means of eliminating the one and
controlling the other. As in the parallel case of the railroads, the
farmers' animosity, though it was probably greater than the provocation
warranted, was not without grounds.
The middlemen--the commission merchants to whom the farmer sold his
produce and the retail dealers from whom he bought his supplies--did
undoubtedly make use of their opportunities to drive hard bargains. The
commission merchant had such facilities for storage and such knowledge
of market conditions that he frequently could take advantage of market
fluctuations to increase his profits. The farmer who sold his produce at
a low price and then saw it disposed of as a much higher figure was
naturally enraged, but he could devise no adequate remedy. Attempts to
regulate market conditions by creating an artificial shortage seldom met
with success. The slogan "Hold your hogs" was more effective as a
catchword than as an economic weapon. The retail dealers, no less than
the commission men, seemed to the farmer to be unjust in their dealings
with him. In the small agricultural communities there was practically no
competition. Even where there were several merchants in one town these
could, and frequently did, combine to fix prices which the farmer had no
alternative but to pay. What irked the farmer most in connection with
these "extortions" was that the middleman seemed to be a nonproducer, a
parasite who lived by draining the agricultural classes of the wealth
which they produced. Even those farmers who recognized the middleman as
a necessity had little conception of the intricacy and value of his
service.
Against the manufacturer, too, the farmer had his grievances. He felt
that the system of patent rights for farm machinery resulted in unfair
prices--for was not this same machinery shipped to Europe and there sold
for less than the retail price in the United States? Any one could see
that the manufacturer must have been making more than reasonable profit
on domestic sales. Moreover, there were at this time many abuses of
patent rights. Patents about to expire were often extended through
political influence or renewed by means of slight changes which were
claimed to be improvements. A more serious defect in the patent system
was that new patents were not thoroughly investigated, so that
occasionally one was issued on an article which had long been in common
use. That a man should take out a patent for the manufacture of a
sliding gate which farmers had for years crudely constructed for
themselves and should then collect royalty from those who were using the
gates they had made, naturally enough aroused the wrath of his victims.
It was but natural, then, that the Granges should be drawn into all
sorts of schemes to divert into the pockets of their members the streams
of wealth which had previously flowed to the greedy middlemen. The
members of the National Grange, thinking that these early schemes for
coöperation were premature, did not at first take them up and
standardize them but left them entirely in the hands of local, county,
and state Granges. These thereupon proceeded to "gang their ain gait"
through the unfamiliar paths of business operations and too frequently
brought up in a quagmire. "This purchasing business," said Kelley in
1867, "commenced with buying jackasses; the prospects are that many will
be sold." But the Grangers went on with their plans for business
coöperation with ardor undampened by such forebodings. Sometimes a local
Grange would make a bargain with a certain dealer of the vicinity,
whereby members were allowed special rates if they bought with cash and
traded only with that dealer. More often the local grange would
establish an agency, with either a paid or a voluntary agent who would
forward the orders of the members in large lots to the manufacturers or
wholesalers and would thus be able to purchase supplies for cash at
terms considerably lower than the retail prices. Frequently, realizing
that they could get still more advantageous terms for larger orders, the
Granges established a county agency which took over the work of several
local agents. Sometimes the Patrons even embarked upon the more
ambitious enterprise of coöperative stores.
The most common type of coöperative store was that in which the capital
was provided by a stock company of Grange members and which sold goods
to Patrons at very low prices. The profits, when there were any, were
divided among the stockholders in proportion to the amount of stock they
held, just as in any stock company. This type of store was rarely
successful for any length of time. The low prices at which it sold goods
were likely to involve it in competition with other merchants.
Frequently these men would combine to lower their prices and, by a
process familiar in the history of business competition, "freeze out"
the coöperative store, after which they might restore their prices to
the old levels. The farmers seldom had sufficient spirit to buy at the
grange store if they found better bargains elsewhere; so the store was
assured of its clientèle only so long as it sold at the lowest possible
prices. Farmers' agencies for the disposal of produce met with greater
success. Coöperative creameries and elevators in several States are said
to have saved Grange members thousands of dollars. Sometimes the state
Grange, instead of setting up in the business of selling produce, chose
certain firms as Grange agents and advised Patrons to sell through these
firms. Where the choice was wisely made, this system seems to have saved
the farmers about as much money without involving them in the risks of
business.
By 1876 the members of the National Grange had begun to study the
problem of coöperation in retailing goods and had come to the conclusion
that the so-called "Rochdale plan," a system worked out by an English
association, was the most practicable for the coöperative store. The
National Grange therefore recommended this type of organization. The
stock of these stores was sold only to Patrons, at five dollars a share
and in limited amounts; thus the stores were owned by a large number of
stockholders, all of whom had equal voice in the management of the
company. The stores sold goods at ordinary rates, and then at the end of
the year, after paying a small dividend on the stock, divided their
profits among the purchasers, according to the amounts purchased. This
plan eliminated the violent competition which occurred when a store
attempted to sell goods at cost, and at the same time saved the
purchaser quite as much. Unfortunately the Rochdale plan found little
favor among farmers in the Middle West because of their unfortunate
experience with other coöperative ventures. In the East and South,
however, it was adopted more generally and met with sufficient success
to testify to the wisdom of the National Grange in recommending it.
In its attitude toward manufacturing, the National Grange was less sane.
Not content with the elimination of the middlemen, the farmers were
determined to control the manufacture of their implements. With the
small manufacturer they managed to deal fairly well, for they could
usually find some one who would supply the Grange with implements at
less than the retail price. In Iowa, where the state Grange early
established an agency for coöperative buying, the agent managed to
persuade a manufacturer of plows to give a discount to Grangers. As a
result, this manufacturer's plows are reported to have left the factory
with the paint scarcely dry, while his competitors, who had refused to
make special terms, had difficulty in disposing of their stock. But the
manufacturers of harvesters persistently refused to sell at wholesale
rates. The Iowa Grange thereupon determined to do its own manufacturing
and succeeded in buying a patent for a harvester which it could make and
sell for about half what other harvesters cost. In 1874 some 250 of
these machines were manufactured, and the prospects looked bright.
Deceived by the apparent success of grange manufacturing in Iowa,
officers of the order at once planned to embark in manufacturing on a
large scale. The National Grange was rich in funds at this time; it had
within a year received well over $250,000 in dispensation fees from
seventeen thousand new Granges. Angered at what was felt to be the
tyranny of monopoly, the officers of the National Grange decided to use
this capital in manufacturing agricultural implements which were to be
sold to Patrons at very low prices. They went about the country buying
patents for all sorts of farm implements, but not always making sure of
the worth of the machinery or the validity of the patents. In Kansas,
Iowa, Missouri, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, and Kentucky, they planned
factories to make harvesters, plows, wagons, sewing-machines,
threshing-machines, and all sorts of farm implements. Then came the
crash. The Iowa harvester factory failed in 1875 and bankrupted the
state Grange. Other failures followed; suits for patent infringements
were brought against some of the factories; local Granges disbanded for
fear they might be held responsible for the debts incurred; and in the
Northwest, where the activity had been the greatest, the order almost
disappeared.
Although the Grange had a mushroom growth, it nevertheless exerted a
real and enduring influence upon farmers both as individuals and as
members of a class. Even the experiments in coöperation, disastrous
though they were in the end, were not without useful results. While they
lasted they undoubtedly effected a considerable saving for the farmers.
As Grange agents or as stockholders in coöperative stores or Grange
factories, many farmers gained valuable business experience which helped
to prevent them from being victimized thereafter. The farmers learned,
moreover, the wisdom of working through the accepted channels of
business. Those who had scoffed at the Rochdale plan of coöperation, in
the homely belief that any scheme made in America must necessarily be
better than an English importation, came to see that self-confidence and
independence must be tempered by willingness to learn from the
experience of others. Most important of all, these experiments in
business taught the farmers that the middlemen and manufacturers
performed services essential to the agriculturalist and that the
production and distribution of manufactured articles and the
distribution of crops are far more complex affairs than the farmers had
imagined and perhaps worthy of more compensation than they had been
accustomed to think just. On their side, the manufacturers and dealers
learned that the farmers were not entirely helpless and that to gain
their goodwill by fair prices was on the whole wiser than to force them
into competition. Thus these ventures resulted in the development of a
new tolerance and a new respect between the two traditionally
antagonistic classes.
The social and intellectual stimulus which the farmers received from the
movement was probably even more important than any direct political or
economic results. It is difficult for the present generation to form any
conception of the dreariness and dullness of farm life half a century
ago. Especially in the West, where farms were large, opportunities for
social intercourse were few, and weeks might pass without the farmer
seeing any but his nearest neighbors. For his wife existence was even
more drear. She went to the market town less often than he and the
routine of her life on the farm kept her close to the farmhouse and
prevented visits even to her neighbors' dwellings. The difficulty of
getting domestic servants made the work of the farmer's wife extremely
laborious; and at that time there were none of the modern conveniences
which lighten work such as power churns, cream separators, and
washing-machines. Even more than the husband, the wife was likely to
degenerate into a drudge without the hope--and eventually without the
desire--of anything better. The church formed, to be sure, a means of
social intercourse; but according to prevailing religious notions the
churchyard was not the place nor the Sabbath the time for that healthy
but unrestrained hilarity which is essential to the well-being of man.
Into lives thus circumscribed the Grange came as a liberalizing and
uplifting influence. Its admission of women into the order on the same
terms as men made it a real community servant and gave both women and
men a new sense of the dignity of woman. More important perhaps than any
change in theories concerning womankind, it afforded an opportunity for
men and women to work and play together, apparently much to the
satisfaction and enjoyment of both sexes. Not only in Grange meetings,
which came at least once a month and often more frequently, but also in
Grange picnics and festivals the farmers and their wives and children
came together for joyous human intercourse. Such frequent meetings were
bound to work a change of heart. Much of man's self-respect arises from
the esteem of others, and the desire to keep that esteem is certainly a
powerful agent in social welfare. It was reported that in many
communities the advent of the Grange created a marked improvement in the
dress and manners of the members. Crabbed men came out of their shells
and grew genial; disheartened women became cheerful; repressed children
delighted in the chance to play with other boys and girls of their own
age.
The ritual of the Grange, inculcating lessons of orderliness, industry,
thrift, and temperance, expressed the members' ideals in more dignified
and pleasing language than they themselves could have invented. The
songs of the Grange gave an opportunity for the exercise of the musical
sense of people not too critical of literary quality, when with
"spontaneous trills on every tongue," as one of the songs has it, the
members varied the ritual with music.
One of the virtues especially enjoined on Grange members was charity.
Ceres, Pomona, and Flora, offices of the Grange to be filled only by
women, were made to represent Faith, Hope, and Charity, respectively;
and in the ceremony of dedicating the Grange hall these three stood
always beside the altar while the chaplain read the thirteenth chapter
of First Corinthians. Not only in theory but in practice did the order
proclaim its devotion to charitable work. It was not uncommon for
members of a local Grange to foregather and harvest the crops for a sick
brother or help rebuild a house destroyed by fire or tornado. In times
of drought or plague both state and national Granges were generous in
donations for the sufferers; in 1874, when the Mississippi River
overflowed its banks in its lower reaches, money and supplies were sent
to the farmers of Louisiana and Alabama; again in the same year relief
was sent to those Patrons who suffered from the grasshopper plague west
of the Mississippi; and in 1876 money was sent to South Carolina to aid
sufferers from a prolonged drought in that State. These charitable
deeds, endearing giver and receiver to each other, resulted in a better
understanding and a greater tolerance between people of different parts
of the country.
The meetings of the local Granges were forums in which the members
trained themselves in public speaking and parliamentary practice.
Programs were arranged, sometimes with the help of suggestions from
officers of the state Grange; and the discussion of a wide variety of
topics, mostly economic and usually concerned especially with the
interests of the farmer, could not help being stimulating, even if
conclusions were sometimes reached which were at variance with orthodox
political economy. The Grange was responsible, too, for a great increase
in the number and circulation of agricultural journals. Many of these
papers were recognized as official organs of the order and, by
publishing news of the Granges and discussing the political and economic
phases of the farmers' movement, they built up an extensive circulation.
Rural postmasters everywhere reported a great increase in their mails
after the establishment of a Grange in the vicinity. One said that after
the advent of the order there were thirty newspapers taken at his office
where previously there had been but one. Papers for which members or
local Granges subscribed were read, passed from hand to hand, and
thoroughly discussed. This is good evidence that farmers were forming
the habit of reading. All the Granger laws might have been repealed; all
the schemes for coöperation might have come to naught; all the moral and
religious teachings of the Grange might have been left to the church;
but if the Granger movement had created nothing else than this desire to
read, it would have been worth while. For after the farmer began to
read, he was no longer like deadwood floating in the backwaters of the
current; he became more like a propelled vessel in midstream--sometimes,
to be sure, driven into turbulent waters, sometimes tossed about by
conflicting currents, but at least making progress.