
Hemp was once one of Missouri’s most important agricultural commodities. The crop was first reported in Missouri in 1835, and by the mid-to-late 1800s the state ranked second only to Kentucky in hemp production in the United States. Missouri’s hemp boom peaked just before the Civil War. In 1860, the state produced 19,267 tons — about 26 percent of the total U.S. crop — making hemp a major force in Missouri’s rural economy.
That prosperity was especially visible along the Missouri River. Hemp shaped farms, warehouses, river trade, and local industry in counties such as Saline, Lafayette, Platte, Pike, and Buchanan. Weston became one of the most famous centers of that trade; by 1858, it was recognized as the largest hemp port in the world. In that era, hemp was valued for practical strength and durability. Its fibers fed demand for rope, cordage, canvas, textiles, and other goods tied to transportation, agriculture, and commerce.
But Missouri’s hemp dominance did not last forever. After the Civil War, production declined as hemp became less competitive. Processing the crop was labor-intensive, other crops became more profitable, and alternative materials such as cotton, jute, sisal, and later synthetic substitutes took market share. Changes in shipping and manufacturing also reduced demand for traditional hemp cordage. The crop did not vanish all at once, but its golden age in Missouri had clearly passed.
For generations afterward, hemp remained more a memory than a major Missouri crop. That began to change in modern law and policy. In 2018, the federal Farm Bill authorized hemp production and removed hemp and hemp seed from the DEA’s schedule of controlled substances, creating a national framework for regulated cultivation. Missouri moved that same year to establish its own Industrial Hemp Pilot Program through HB 2034, reopening a legal path for growers in the state.
The restart was real, but it was not simple. Missouri’s industrial hemp program moved forward in 2020 and 2021, with the state receiving federal approval for its hemp plan and issuing more than 200 producer registrations during the program’s early years. Even so, rebuilding an industry after decades of dormancy proved difficult. Researchers and growers have pointed to familiar obstacles: limited processing infrastructure, uncertain markets, unreliable genetics, specialized harvesting needs, and shifting regulations.
That is what makes hemp’s story in Missouri so compelling today. It is not just a tale of a lost crop making a triumphant return. It is a story of revival, adaptation, and unfinished possibility. Hemp still offers attractive strengths: it can be used in fiber, grain, food, wellness products, and industrial materials, and universities and researchers in Missouri continue to invest in understanding its agricultural and commercial potential. But the industry remains in flux. As of April 2026, Missouri lawmakers have sent a bill to the governor that would significantly restrict intoxicating hemp products, a reminder that the business environment around hemp is still evolving.
So yes, hemp truly was Missouri’s once-thriving cash crop. And in many ways, it still carries the outline of that old importance. The difference now is that Missouri is not simply trying to recreate the nineteenth century. It is trying to decide what hemp will become in the twenty-first: a niche crop, a sustainable industrial material, a wellness commodity, or perhaps, once again, a meaningful piece of the state’s agricultural identity.