Renowned for his pivotal role in Irish history, Daniel O’Connell, often referred to as “The Liberator” for his efforts in Catholic Emancipation, is now revealing a lesser-known facet of his life: his deep and passionate love for his wife, Mary. The newly unveiled collection of love letters sheds light on O’Connell’s affectionate and tender side, showcasing a man deeply devoted to his beloved.
O’Connell’s love story began in 1802 when he married his cousin, Mary, the daughter of Dr O’Connell from Tralee. Despite financial challenges and familial opposition, O’Connell remained steadfast in his commitment to Mary. The couple’s private nuptials took place in Dublin, a discreet celebration in the lodgings of Mary’s brother-in-law.
One of the love letters, dated November 25, 1802, is addressed with a disguised hand to “Miss O’Connell, Tralee.” The poignant letter, protected over the years, reveals O’Connell’s profound emotions and longing for his wife. The letter emphasizes his unwavering love and desire to be with her, even expressing that he could find happiness in a prison or desert as long as he had her by his side.
“I rave of you! I think only of you! I sigh for you! I weep for you! I almost pray to you! Darling, I do not—indeed, I do not—exaggerate,” O’Connell wrote in the letter. He also expressed his eagerness for the arrival of their child, hoping for a daughter who would resemble Mary.
In another letter, O’Connell reflects on their early days together and his affection for Mary. He fondly remembers proposing only to her and describes her heavenly temper. O’Connell’s words reveal the depth of his love and the happiness Mary brought into his life.
These love letters provide a unique glimpse into O’Connell’s personal life, contrasting with his public image as a fierce advocate for Irish rights and Catholic emancipation. While O’Connell’s contributions to Irish history are undeniable, these letters reveal the intimate side of a man deeply in love and devoted to his wife and family.
The collection of love letters, meticulously preserved and cherished over the years, showcases the romantic side of Daniel O’Connell, offering a touching tribute to his enduring love for Mary. As the letters come to light, they remind us that even historical figures with significant public legacies had private lives filled with love and emotion.
The following letter from Daniel O’Connell to his wife, dated November 25, 1802, is addressed in a disguised hand to “Miss O’Connell, Tralee.” It cost the recipient sixpence on delivery, but she would have given diamonds for such precious words. Considering that the content was mainly dependent on a lady, it seems to have been remarkably well-kept:
Dublin, November 25, 1802
Darling,—I can write you but a few lines, as it is growing so late, and my time is small. You will know, my heart’s dearest treasure, that whether I write few or many words, there certainly is not in the world a man who more fondly dotes on or who so anxiously longs for the arms of his wife. Day and night you are constantly present in my fond thoughts, and you always increase my happiness or lessen my cares. With you I could live with pleasure in a prison or a desert. You are my all of company, and if I can but preserve your love, I shall have in it more of true delight than can be imagined by any but he who sincerely loves, Sweet Mary.
I rave of you! I think only of you! I sigh for you! I weep for you! I almost pray to you! Darling, I do not—indeed, I do not—exaggerate. If there be more of vehemence in my expressions, believe me that vehemence has its justification in my heart—a heart that is devoted to the most enticing of her sex. Indeed, you are a dear, charming little woman. Your last letter I have read again and again. It is in every respect a most pleasing letter to me, not only from the heart-flowing strain of tenderness in which it is written, but the saucy gaiety of some of the passages show me how much recovered my love is.
Mary, how fondly I cherish the little stranger coming! I hope it may be a daughter, and as like you as possible. Oh, God! how I then will love her! How sincerely will I express my affection to the mother in the caresses I bestow on the child. Dearest, sweetest wife, I can thus hope to be able to prove to you the ardor and the purity of the pleasing affection with which my soul dotes on you.
Dearest, I am writing with great rapidity, but still my thoughts run much faster than my pen. I could praise you a thousand times faster than I write, as I love you a thousand times more than I can tell. I shall soon see you, dearest darling. Love to dear mother.
Ever your devoted husband,
Daniel O’Connell
In a week, we shall be able to fix the time of our departure. Happy, happy moment that gives me my sweet wife again.
“I PROPOSED ONLY TO MY MARY”
(O’Connell, in a conversation with his secretary, Mr Daunt, in 1843, said: “I never proposed marriage to any woman but one—my Mary. I told her I would devote my life to make her happy—and she deserved that I should. I thought that my uncle would disinherit me. But I did not care. I was richly rewarded by subsequent happiness. She had the sweetest, most heavenly temper, and—the sweetest breath.” He added a shrewd remark which deserves to be remembered: It is unwise on the part of a lover to offer marriage at an early period of his courtship. By this precipitation, he loses the advantage which female curiosity must otherwise afford him, and in sapping his way to her heart, discards a powerful auxiliary.]
ANXIETY ABOUT HER COMFORT
Limerick, Wednesday, March 20, 1811
I am impatient to My Own Love hear whether you have come to any determination as to the new study. O’Connell has just moved to No. 30 Merrion Square South, the house now occupied by Dr Kidd. It certainly will very much contribute to your comfort, and, though you will not believe it, darling, yet it would really give me pleasure to make you feel comfortable. Besides, until you have a sitting parlour, it is impossible that you should be able to have your drawing rooms in anything like neat and perfect order.
I shall write to [one of his sons aged 7 years], as you desire, but indeed, dear, I could wish that you would be more peremptory with him. One effort would reduce him to perpetual obedience. You might punish him by confining him to the nursery or excluding him from your dinner table, or in any other manner of that kind, but you ought not to suffer him to impose on you.
—Your most tenderly fond
Daniel O’Connell.
Ennis, March 5, 1812
Kerry Evening Star – Thursday 06 April 1905
