Latest / The History of Ireland: Rebellion, Empire, and Independence — Fexingo History / The Great Famine: An Gorta Mór 1845-1852
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've touched on the Penal Laws, the plantations, the battles—but there's one event that reshaped Ireland more than any other: the Great Famine. By the 1840s, Ireland's population had swelled to over eight million, and a huge chunk depended entirely on the potato. It was a high-risk monoculture. Luna: So when the potato failed, everything fell apart. Lucas: Exactly. And we're covering this heavy chapter without any ads, thanks to listeners who support the show. If you want to keep it that way, you can find us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: Yeah, it's a small thing that makes a big difference. So what actually caused the blight? Lucas: A water mold called Phytophthora infestans—it hit the potato leaves and tubers, turning them into a black, slimy mess. It first showed up in 1845 and destroyed about a third of the crop. That was bad, but 1846 was catastrophic: nearly total failure. And it kept returning through 1847, 1848. Luna: How did the British government respond? I know there were different prime ministers involved. Lucas: Right. Sir Robert Peel was in charge in 1845, and he tried to help by repealing the Corn Laws—that lowered grain prices, but it didn't get food to the starving fast enough. Then Lord John Russell took over in 1846, and his government embraced laissez-faire. The key figure was Charles Trevelyan, the Treasury official who believed the famine was a divine punishment and that relief would make the Irish lazy. Luna: That's a harsh ideology when millions are dying. Lucas: It was. Trevelyan's policies were disastrous. Instead of direct food aid, they set up public works—building roads and walls—so people could earn money to buy food. But wages were low, and many were too weak to work. Soup kitchens were introduced only in 1847, but they were limited. Meanwhile, landlords evicted tenants who couldn't pay rent, and entire villages were cleared. Luna: I've heard of the Ballinglass eviction. That was particularly brutal? Lucas: The Ballinglass eviction in March 1846 is infamous. About 300 people were evicted from a village in County Galway by their landlord, Mrs. Gerrard. She had them removed and then demolished their homes with battering rams, all while they were starving. Many died on the roadside. It wasn't an isolated case—evictions happened across the country. Lucas: The workhouses were another horror. The Poor Law had established workhouses in the 1830s, but they were never meant for a catastrophe of this scale. By 1847, they were overflowing with the sick and starving. Conditions were appalling: overcrowding, typhus, dysentery. People died in droves. Luna: And that's when emigration really took off. Lucas: Yes. Between 1845 and 1855, about two million people emigrated. Most went to the United States and Canada, but also to Britain and Australia. They traveled in 'coffin ships'—old cargo vessels crammed with passengers, often lacking food and clean water. Disease spread quickly; it's estimated that one in five died during the voyage. Luna: So the population dropped from eight million to around six and a half million by the end? I've read it was more dramatic than that. Lucas: Actually, by 1851 the population had fallen to about 6.5 million, but that's from a peak of over 8 million. So roughly a million died from starvation or disease, and another million emigrated. But the decline continued—by 1900, Ireland's population was around 4.5 million, and it's never recovered to pre-famine levels. Luna: That's stunning. How did survivors cope day to day? I've heard about people eating grass and nettles. Lucas: Desperate measures. People boiled nettles, ate seaweed, and dug for edible roots. There are accounts of people trying to digest turnips and cabbages that were meant for cattle. Some resorted to eating the dead. The psychological trauma was immense. It also broke down social structures: families were torn apart, and the Irish language, which was strong in the west, suffered a catastrophic blow because so many native speakers died or emigrated. Luna: The language connection is something we've talked about before. So the Famine is a major reason for its decline. Lucas: Exactly. The Gaeltacht regions were hit hardest by the famine. An Gorta Mór directly killed or dispersed millions of Irish speakers. That's why by the end of the 19th century, English had become the dominant language outside of isolated pockets. Lucas: There were also food exports during the famine. While people starved, Ireland continued to export grain, cattle, and butter to Britain. That's one of the most bitter aspects: there was food in the country, but it was considered private property, and the government didn't stop the exports. Trevelyan's view was that the market should not be interfered with. Luna: That infuriates me. So people starved while food was being shipped out? Lucas: Yes. It's a stark example of colonial economic policy overriding human life. The British government provided some relief, but it was never enough. The Quakers were among the most effective private relief organizers—they set up soup kitchens and distributed food directly. But the scale of the disaster overwhelmed all efforts. Luna: Did the famine lead to any political changes? I'm thinking about the rise of Irish nationalism. Lucas: Absolutely. The famine deepened resentment against British rule. It radicalized many Irish people. The Young Irelander Rebellion of 1848—a failed uprising—was partly fueled by the famine. And in the long term, it planted seeds for the independence movement. The Irish diaspora, particularly in America, became a source of funds and support for later nationalist campaigns. Lucas: One legacy you can still see is in the landscape: abandoned villages, famine roads that lead nowhere, the silent fields. There are mass graves across the country, often unmarked. The Great Famine is not just a historical event; it's a wound in the Irish psyche. Luna: I've visited the famine museum in Dublin. It's moving. So what's the best way to remember this? We're almost out of time. Lucas: I think remembering the names—the people who lived and died—matters. And recognizing that famine didn't have to happen. It was a combination of natural disaster and human choices. The potato blight was a catalyst, but the response was a political failure. That's a lesson that still resonates today, in an age of climate change and food insecurity. Luna: Thanks for covering this so thoughtfully. Lucas: Thank you for listening. If you want to support ad-free history like this, please consider buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Otherwise, join us next time.