The End of Hidden Ireland: Rebellion, Famine, and Emigration by Robert James Scally (review)

BOOK REVIEWS The End of Hidden Ireland: Rebellion, Famine, and Emigration, by Robert James Scally, pp. 266, New York: Oxford University Press, 1995, $35.00. Robert James Scally’s book is a study of rural Ireland on the eve of the Famine. The End of Hidden Ireland is a timely work, as we now are commemorating the 150-year anniversary of the most pivotal event in modern Irish history, but Scally’s research and profound speculations regarding the “hidden Ireland” at the brink of calamity also make this book highly readable. In his Introduction, Scally refers to his research as a “narrative,” and a compelling narrative it is. The historian’s portrayal of the rural community that was forcibly evicted from their homes and then removed from their country of birth is a sensitive retelling that never veers into mere sentimentality; rather, the reader will be carried through this historical narrative simply by the longing to understand why such glaring and vulgar injustices became the norm and, in fact, the law. Scally’s book provides the reader with a more complete understanding of the ravage of “England’s Wrst colony”—a destruction that was partially a result of natural disaster, but also, a destruction that was most deWnitely man-made and often intentional. The phrase “hidden Ireland” was coined by writer Daniel Corkery to refer to the largely unrecorded sociohistorical status of Ireland’s countryside. Historians glean much of their information from recorded materials, and surmise from these. However, with regard to nineteenth-century rural Ireland, there is a scarcity of written materials from which to draw, and so the oral tradition extends into the arena of history. Yet, Corkery’s phrase also connotes the desire of the oppressed Irish peasantry to remain hidden, to remain unseen. The peasantry, as a colonized people , were constantly within either the literal or the Wgurative gaze of the colonizer . Hence, the wish to be a part of “the hidden,” was the desire to reach some level of self-deWnition and self-determination: once a people’s actions begin to be recorded—written down—they are at risk of having their story told by someone else, and such is the case with the people at the center of Scally’s book. In 1836, the residents of the townland of Balykilcline were threatened with eviction by the local magistrates. (Balykilcline is located about ninety miles west of Dublin, near Strokestown, Co. Roscommon, which is today home of the newly opened Famine Museum.) The landlord had two years previously been committed to an asylum and the property had gone unmanaged and rent unpaid since that BOOK REVIEWS 182 time. Scally reminds us that this in itself was not an unusual occurrence: throughout the countryside, rents frequently went unpaid. In fact, indebtedness was the norm for most of the Irish population, regardless of class. What was unusual, however , was that the action threated in 1836 by the authorities—eviction— represented a breach in the social contract that governed the tenuous peace and stability between the tenantry and the landlords. Once this contract was broken by the landowners, the residents of Balykilcline took a unique step by Wling a petition with the Crown’s authorities to retain their lands. Thus, the social contract was fully dismantled by both parties concerned, and peace was threatened. This legal petition undertaken by the tenantry of Balykilcline provides the paper trail that allowed Scally a striking insight into the culture of agrarian Ireland. The “hidden Ireland” ended not only with the overt legal actions of the tenantry, whence their activities began to be recorded; the “hidden Ireland” has now also been further dismantled , uncovered if you will, by the historian who relays their story. The Wrst half of the book describes the social infrastructure of Balykilcline. Scally paints a picture of this townland that could be any of hundreds of townlands throughout the Irish countryside. The buildings were few, all were ramshackle, and there was a noticeable lack of possessions—to the unknowing eye, and to the outsider, all these facets of the townland betokened a “primitive nature.” Yet, Scally is adamant that although these little hovels were impermanent, there was indeed...