In 1856 Patrick McGlynn, a young schoolmaster in west Donegal, Ireland, turned informer on the Molly Maguires, a secret combination that, from the Great Famine of the late 1840s, had been responsible for a wave of violence and intimidation—offences that the state termed ‘outrage’. Here, a history of McGlynn’s informing, backlit by episodes over the previous two decades, sheds light on that wave of outrage, its origins and outcomes, the meaning and the memory of it. More specifically, it illuminates the end of outrage—the shifting objectives of those who engaged in it, and also how, after hunger faded and disease abated, tensions emerged in the Molly Maguires, when one element sought to curtail such activity, while another sought, unsuccessfully, to expand it. And in that contention, when the opportunities of post-Famine society were coming into view, one glimpses the end, or at least an ebbing, of outrage—in the everyday sense of moral indignation—at the fate of the rural poor. But, at heart, The End of Outrage is about contention among neighbours—a family that rose from the ashes of a mode of living, those consumed in the conflagration, and those who lost much but not all. Ultimately, the concern is how the poor themselves came to terms with their loss: how their own outrage at what had been done unto them and their forebears lost malignancy, and ended.