Escape to Hope

One of the first signs of disaster was a strange smell—a hint of something rotten, carried by the wind. 

Ten-year-old Edward “Edd” Neary must have noticed it as he walked to school in his village of Elphin, Ireland, in October 1845. He probably didn’t think too much of it. The weather had been especially stormy throughout the late summer and fall. A light moldy smell wouldn’t have seemed too unusual. 

But if Edd paid little attention to the smell at first, he could not have ignored what happened next.

One afternoon, the bright sun suddenly dimmed, as if a dark curtain had been yanked across the sky. A thick blue fog crept over the fields, swallowing up wooden barns and grazing sheep. By early the next morning, the light smell had become a choking stench.

Elphin’s farmers rushed out into their fields. All had the same heart-stopping thought. 

The potatoes. 

Perhaps their cries of horror woke Edd from sleep. 

Overnight, the leaves and stems of Elphin’s potato plants had broken out in sickly black spots. The farmers clawed wildly at the dirt. They pulled up potatoes that were scarred and wrinkly. Stinking black slime oozed from the vegetables’ skin.

The same horrible scene was happening all over Ireland. Waves of panic rippled across the island. Most people relied on potatoes as their main source of food. Now they faced a terrifying question: How would they survive the winter?

One of the first signs of disaster was a strange smell. It was something damp and rotten.

Edward “Edd” Neary, 10, must have noticed the smell as he walked to school. He lived in the village of Elphin, Ireland. It was October 1845. He probably didn’t think too much of it. The weather had been very stormy throughout the late summer and fall. A light moldy smell wouldn’t have seemed unusual.

Edd may have paid little attention to the smell at first. But he couldn’t have ignored what happened next.

One afternoon, the bright sun suddenly dimmed. A thick blue fog crept over the fields. It swallowed up wooden barns and grazing sheep. By the next morning, the light smell had become a choking stink.

Elphin’s farmers rushed out into their fields. All had the same heart-stopping thought.

The potatoes.

Overnight, Elphin’s potato plants had broken out in black spots. The farmers clawed wildly at the dirt. They pulled up potatoes that were scarred and wrinkly. Stinking black slime oozed from the vegetables’ skin.

The same horrible scene was happening all over Ireland. Waves of panic spread across the island. For most people, potatoes were their main source of food. How would they survive the winter? 

Edd was luckier than others in Ireland in the 1800s. His father was a schoolteacher who earned a small salary. But most people on the European island were poor farmers who lived off what they grew.  

At the time, Ireland was controlled by Britain—then the richest, most powerful country in the world. Wealthy British people owned most of the land in Ireland. Landowners split their large farms into chunks and rented them out to Irish farmers. The farmers would then rent out smaller pieces to less well-off farmers, called laborers. 

Most of the population in Ireland—about 6 million people out of 8 million—belonged to this group. The poorest laborers and their families lived in one-room cabins made of mud and straw. They wore rags that did little to keep them warm. Their plots of land were too small to grow much of anything.

But to grow potatoes, they didn’t need a lot of space. The crop grew easily in Irish soil—just one acre of land could produce enough potatoes to feed a family of six for most of the year. 

A kid Edd’s age might eat 20 potatoes per day, prepared in all sorts of ways. Breakfast? Potato pancakes. Lunch? Potato bread. Dinner? Potato soup. Thanks to this nutritious vegetable, even the very poorest families could stay healthy and strong.

Until the fall of 1845, when potato crops across the island suddenly died.

Edd was luckier than others in Ireland in the 1800s. His father was a schoolteacher. He earned a small salary. But most people on the European island were poor farmers. They lived off what they grew.

At the time, Ireland was controlled by Britain. Back then, Britain was the richest, most powerful country in the world. Wealthy British people owned most of the land in Ireland. Landowners split their large farms into chunks. They rented them to Irish farmers. The farmers rented out smaller pieces to less well-off farmers, called laborers.

About 6 million of Ireland’s 8 million people belonged to this group. The poorest of them lived in one-room cabins made of mud and straw. They wore rags that did little to keep them warm. Their plots of land were too small to grow much.

But to grow potatoes, they didn’t need a lot of space. The crop grew easily in Irish soil. Just one acre of land could grow enough potatoes to feed a family of six for most of the year.

A kid Edd’s age might eat 20 potatoes per day. Breakfast? Potato pancakes. Lunch? Potato bread. Dinner? Potato soup. Thanks to this nutritious vegetable, the very poorest families could stay healthy and strong. 

Until the fall of 1845, when potato crops across the island suddenly died.

All over Elphin, Edd would have heard adults whispering worriedly about the disaster. Many people believed that fairies lived among Ireland’s rolling hills and rocky cliffs. Could the fairies have gotten angry and caused the potatoes to rot?

Even scientists at the time couldn’t understand what was happening. It would be many years before they would finally figure out what had destroyed the vegetables: a plant disease known as late blight. It’s caused by a mold. Today, most experts believe the mold made its way to Ireland in cases of fertilizer from the Americas, which farmers used to help their crops grow.

Shivering through the heavy storms that summer and fall, Edd had no idea that the weather was helping this deadly disease to spread. Powerful winds whipped up tiny specks of the mold and blew them across the island. These flecks settled onto potato plants, where the rains helped the mold sprout and sink deep into the soil. 

As this invisible killer swept across Ireland, fields full of healthy potatoes were turned into gooey black lumps. The sickening stink on that dark day in October was the smell of plants being eaten alive.

All over Elphin, Edd would have heard adults whispering worriedly about the disaster. Many people believed that fairies lived among Ireland’s hills. Were the fairies angry? Did they cause the potatoes to rot?

Scientists at the time didn’t understand what was happening. Much later, experts figured out that it was a plant disease known as late blight. It’s caused by a mold. Today, most experts believe the mold arrived in Ireland in cases of fertilizer from the Americas. Farmers used the fertilizer to help their crops grow.

That summer and fall, Edd couldn’t have known that the stormy weather was spreading the disease. Powerful winds were blowing up tiny specks of the mold across the island. These specks settled onto potato plants. The rains helped the mold sprout and sink deep into the soil. 

This invisible killer swept across Ireland. Fields full of healthy potatoes turned into gooey black lumps. The sickening stink on that dark day in October was the smell of plants being eaten alive.

Edd’s family probably kept a small patch of land to grow potatoes. They would have been worried when the crop failed. But with the money Edd’s dad earned, they were able to buy foods like bread and fish from the market.

Ireland’s laborers did not have that option. Many had to sell whatever they could—furniture, clothes, tools—for money to buy food. Others hunched in ditches by the side of the road, picking weeds and snails to eat. The most desperate snuck out after dark to steal grain from the fields of wealthier farmers. 

Something had to be done. But the British government was slow to act. Many of its leaders unfairly blamed the disaster on the Irish people themselves. If the Irish had worked harder and relied less on the potato, they said, people wouldn’t be going hungry now. Maybe this crisis would even help teach them a lesson.

It was months before the government finally sent help. It set up a system in which struggling laborers could repair roads, build walls, and dig ditches for a small wage. They could then use the money to buy food like corn. But by then, many were too weak to do this kind of backbreaking work. And corn was not as nutritious as potatoes. 

The laborers comforted themselves with the thought that all of this wouldn’t last forever. Soon, there would be new potatoes to eat. 

Surely the dreadful disease wouldn’t strike again. 

Edd’s family probably kept a small patch of land to grow potatoes. They would have been worried when the crop failed. But Edd’s dad earned money. They could buy bread and fish.

Ireland’s laborers did not have that option. Many had to sell their furniture, clothes, and tools for money to buy food. Others picked weeds and snails to eat. The most desperate snuck out after dark. They stole grain from the fields of wealthier farmers.

Something had to be done. But the British government was slow to act. Many of its leaders unfairly blamed the disaster on the Irish people. The leaders said that if the Irish had worked harder and depended less on the potato, people wouldn’t be going hungry now. Maybe this crisis would even teach the Irish a lesson.

It was months before the government sent help. It would pay struggling laborers a small wage to repair roads, build walls, and dig ditches. Then they could buy food like corn.

But by then, many were too weak to do such difficult work. And corn was not as nutritious as potatoes.

The laborers tried to comfort themselves. Soon, there would be new potatoes to eat.

Surely the dreadful disease wouldn’t strike again. 

But in early August 1846, it did. Once again storms hit the countryside, the mold spread, the potatoes blackened. And this time, the disease was even worse than before: More than three-quarters of the potato crop was destroyed.

Laborers fell to their knees and wept. Most didn’t have anything left to sell. And the government had shut down many of its efforts to help. It had decided the Irish should be responsible for their own problems.

The laborers had put all their hopes on these new potatoes. Now they had nothing. 

The months dragged on. People grew thinner and weaker. Their bodies were no longer strong enough to fight off germs. Dangerous diseases soon swept through towns and villages, sickening thousands. 

But in early August 1846, it did. Once again storms hit the countryside. The mold spread. The potatoes blackened. This time, the disease was even worse. It destroyed more than three-quarters of the potato crop.

Laborers fell to their knees and cried. Most didn’t have anything left to sell. And the government had shut down many of its efforts to help. It said the Irish should solve their own problems.

The laborers had put all their hopes on these new potatoes. Now they had nothing.

The months dragged on. People grew thinner and weaker. Their bodies were no longer strong enough to fight off germs. Dangerous diseases swept through towns and villages. Thousands became sick. 

Faced with hunger and disease, hundreds of thousands of people made a painful decision: to leave Ireland, the only home they had ever known. 

Edd’s family was among those who decided to leave. As more and more people in Elphin died or moved away, there would have been little work for his dad as a schoolteacher. Edd’s parents, Edward and Bridget, likely worried about being able to feed their six children. How could their family have a future in Ireland?

In April 1847, Edd, his parents, his brothers and sisters, and his grandfather set sail on a ship to Canada. From there, they planned to make their way to New York. 

How did Edd feel about the journey? Was he thrilled to sail a big ship all the way across the Atlantic Ocean? Was he sad to leave his home and friends in Elphin?

Surely, as Edd saw land after more than a month at sea, he felt relief. At last, here was his new home—his new life.

Faced with hunger and disease, hundreds of thousands of people made a painful decision. They would leave Ireland, the only home they had ever known.

Edd’s family was among those who decided to leave. As more people in Elphin died or moved away, there would have been little work for his dad as a teacher. Edd’s parents likely worried about how to feed their six children.

In April 1847, Edd and his family got on a ship to Canada. From there, they would go to New York.

How did Edd feel about the journey? Was he thrilled to sail across the Atlantic Ocean? Was he sad to leave Elphin?

Surely, as Edd saw land after more than a month at sea, he felt relief. At last, here was his new home—his new life.