Ellen O'Leary
Ellen O'Leary (1831–1889), a distinguished nationalist and poet, was born on October 22, 1831, in Tipperary town, as the second child of John O'Leary, a prosperous shopkeeper, and his second wife Margaret Ryan. Tragically, Ellen lost her mother when she was still a very young child in the mid-1830s. Alongside her brothers John, who would later become a prominent Fenian leader, and Arthur (1833–1861), she was raised by an aunt. Her father later remarried and had two more children with his third wife.
Ellen's adult life was primarily spent in a cottage in Tipperary town, where she lived independently after inheriting a modest income following her father's passing. Despite this seemingly quiet existence, Ellen's life was punctuated by periods spent with her brothers in their student lodgings in Dublin and London. She was known for her intelligence, sensitivity, and bookish nature, dedicating much of her time to working with local Catholic charities and, from her early twenties, producing poetry that often reflected her commitment to the nationalist cause.
Her literary contributions graced the pages of various journals, including the Nation, Commercial Journal, Irishman, Shamrock, Irish Fireside, and the Irish-American Boston Pilot. Additionally, she became closely associated with the Fenian journal, the Irish People (1863–1865), co-edited by her brother John. Under the pseudonyms ‘Eily’ and ‘Lenel’, Ellen's poetic prowess flourished in the pages of these publications.
Ellen's involvement in nationalist politics deepened over the years, and she regularly attended Fenian meetings in Dublin, hosted at her brother's lodgings. Following the arrests of prominent Fenians, including her brother John, in September 1865, Ellen was enlisted by the IRB leader James Stephens to carry messages in Dublin and Paris. She played a crucial role in facilitating Stephens's escape from Richmond prison in November 1865, even mortgaging her property to charter a ship to take him to France. Subsequently, she began working for Edward Duffy, who assumed leadership of the IRB after Stephens's flight. Ellen and Duffy became engaged, but their happiness was short-lived as Duffy was arrested in March 1867 and died in prison in January 1868. His death profoundly affected Ellen, contributing to her quiet, retiring, and melancholic demeanour.
Despite personal tragedies, Ellen remained committed to the nationalist cause. She moved back to Tipperary but continued to support her brother John during his imprisonment in England and Paris after his release in 1871.
In January 1881, Ellen O'Leary attended the inaugural meeting of the Ladies' Land League, where she was elected as the organization's treasurer. Assuming this pivotal role, she became instrumental in managing its finances and coordinating activities, showcasing her leadership skills and steadfast commitment to the cause.
Throughout the early 1880s, Ellen O'Leary immersed herself wholeheartedly in her political endeavours, revitalizing her activism with fervour and determination. As a prominent figure within the Ladies' Land League, she played a vital role in securing material support for the organization, leveraging her position as treasurer to procure essential resources. Under Ellen O'Leary's guidance, the Ladies' Land League emerged as a lifeline for numerous Irish families grappling with the oppressive forces of landlordism and exploitation. In an era marked by the imprisonment or exile of many male leaders, women like Ellen O'Leary courageously stepped forward to continue the work, showcasing remarkable resilience and fortitude in the face of adversity.
In 1885, Ellen reunited with her brother John in Dublin, where they lived together at 40 Leinster Road, Rathmines. Their home became a hub for leading Irish writers, nationalists, and intellectuals, hosting notable figures such as W. B. Yeats. Ellen's literary talents were recognized alongside her brother's, as her poetry appeared in seminal publications like "Poems and Ballads of Young Ireland" (1888). She also joined the Pan-Celtic Society and contributed to its publications, further cementing her place in Irish literary and nationalist circles.
Despite her contributions and recognition, Ellen's later years were marred by poor health. Diagnosed with breast cancer in 1885, she underwent surgery, but it failed to halt the disease's progression. Ellen passed away on October 16, 1889, in the home of her nephew John King in Castle Street, Cork. She was buried in the O'Leary family plot in Tipperary, leaving behind a legacy as a leading Fenian poet. A collection of her verse, prepared with the assistance of Maud Gonne and C. H. Oldham, was published posthumously in 1891 with an introduction by Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, solidifying her place in Irish literary history. John O'Leary, profoundly affected by her loss, described her as everything to him, underscoring the deep bond they shared.
Below you'll find one of Ellen’s poems.
‘A Legend of Tyrone’.
Crouched round a bare hearth in hard, frosty weather,
Three lonely helpless weans cling close together;
Tangled those gold locks, once bonnie and bright--
There's no one to fondle the baby tonight.
"My mammie I want; oh! my mammie I want!
The big tears stream down with the low wailing chant.
Sweet Eily's slight arms enfold the gold head:
"Poor weeny Willie, sure mammie is dead--
And daddie is crazy from drinking all day--
Come down, holy angels, and take us away!
Eily and Eddie keep kissing and crying--
Outside, the weird winds are sobbing and sighing.
All in a moment the children are still,
Only a quick coo of gladness from Will.
The sheeling no longer seems empty or bare,
For, clothed in soft raiment, the mother stands there.
They gather around her, they cling to her dress;
She rains down soft kisses for each shy caress.
Her light, loving touches smooth out tangled locks,
And, pressed to her bosom, the baby she rocks.
He lies in his cot, there's a fire on the hearth;
To Eily and Eddy 'tis heaven on earth,
For mother's deft fingers have been everywhere;
She lulls them to rest in the low suggaun chair.
They gaze open-eyed, then the eyes gently close,
As petals fold into the heart of a rose,
But ope soon again in awe, love, but no fear,
And fondly they murmur, "Our mammie is here."
She lays them down softly, she wraps them around;
They lie in sweet slumbers, she starts at a sound,
The cock loudly crows, and the spirit's away--
The drunkard steals in at the dawning of day.
Again and again, 'tween the dark and the dawn,
Glides in the dead mother to nurse Willie Bawn:
Or is it an angel who sits by the hearth?
An angel in heaven, a mother on earth.