Letter from James Finn to May Fay, 23 March 1916

Foo, Bar; Bar, Foo

Letter from James Finn to May Fay, 23 March 1916

1 NATIONAL HEALTH COMMISSION (IRELAND),
PEMBROKE HOUSE,
UPPER MOUNT STREET,
DUBLIN. 23 March, 1916. My darling May, I was overjoyed to get your letter this morning telling me that I may
go down for the weekend to see you. I am writing to Mrs Seery now to ask for
lodgings but I don’t know yet whether you will let me go on the early train on Saturday or on the
evening train. When you have decided that point you might please let Mrs Seery know
so that she may know when to expect me. It’s really not a vital matter with me as
if I don’t go early Saturday I shall take an extra day instead probably Tuesday
as I shall stay Monday in any case but of course naturally the sooner I see you the sooner I
shall be happy. Until I see you I shall as usual be eating my heart out and one’s
heart is very unsatisfying diet. About the photo I’ll bring it down with me. Of course I was
only joking about the plain looking girl as I know very well it is yourself and I could hardly
think you plain looking since I love you so much! I don’t think it’s quite fair of you
to try to pretend it is someone else. I haven’t shown it around the house
at home so you needn’t be afraid on that score. I wrote to you on Sunday early
in reply to your letter enclosing the cherished rose and posted it myself before 4 o’clock
long before post hour so you should have it on Monday. The bould Paddy is to blame
I’m quite sure especially if it bears the Ballinea postmark 4:30 am on Monday. About
Ray and the jealousy I was interested in the account of the happenings on the hill. I don’t
blame poor Ray for talking silly. I’d do it myself only I’m more given perhaps to self-
repression. I don’t think you are quite fair in thinking me backward or seemingly indifferent
that day. It’s a long day since I have been indifferent to you although you’re inclined to think 2 I’m only telling you that to please you. I’m afraid you don’t yet understand my attitude of mind
to you for a good while past. I half suspect Mrs Seery must have guessed how I felt towards
you because whenever your name cropped up she used to mention what age you were and so
on. For instance I remember very well her having told me several times you were not
yet 19 and I remember how I used internally to say “O Lord, put her out of your head,
you'd- fool” I could hardly think anything else when I considered our relative ages and
your extreme youth. For all these reasons I have always been inclined to stand out of the
running where you were concerned and to give you a fair field when younger and better men were
concerned. For example, I remember somebody remarking last year in connection with Josie Duffy’s
marriage that one of the Casey boys might fix a covetous eye on you at the wedding and I
thought to myself that it would be a shame for me to stand in the way of your happiness
if such came to pass. Any of the Casey boys that I might met would have been a much
more suitable and probably a much better husband for you than I could ever hope to be.
All these considerations restrained me and made me seem backward. I always wanted you to
have the chance of seeing the merits of the better men and although it would have cost me
many a heartache I\'d have been contented to see you married to somebody else if
I was sure you preferred him to your humble servant, (servant in every sense I hope).
I\'m afraid I have nothing more to say at the present except that I look forward
to seeing you on Saturday. Be sure to let Mrs Seery know what train to expect
me on. From what I have just told you I suppose it is unnecessary to repeat
my love or to send you any special loving message now. I have loved you for
many a day, May darling, and I hope we live together in ever increasing love and
harmony for a good many years to come. I have no fears now that you will fail in
your love and devotion but I distrust myself always. I kiss my dear girl’s sweet face
many times and send her my love. James

TThis is from a series of letters written between James Finn and his fiancée Mary (May) Fay. They became engaged in January 1916 and married in June. He lived in Dublin, she in Westmeath; he was 20 years older than her at 39 and had become acquainted with her during his regular visits to his relative Mrs Mary Seery, her neighbour. Throughout the series their relationship develops from the first somewhat tentative letters. They were not to be married long: in 1919 he fell ill with the great flu epidemic, it led to heart damage and he died in 1922 as she was expecting their fourth child. She held on to his letters as her reminder of him. Despite many offers and her difficult finances she never married again. She took in lodgers and trained (and practised) as a midwife, chiropodist, and public health nurse while raising her children. She proved to be an excellent entrepreneur, charmed bank managers into giving her loans (against the norm of the time) and bought properties one after another, many of which were broken up into flats. James Finn was a civil servant, working in the National Health Service Commission on Mount Street. Family history says that he was advising on the restructuring of the civil service as part of setting up the new government in 1922 and that eminent figures in that project were visiting him in his sick bed so that they could consult with him. Neither May nor James were politically active, although like many in the Civil Service, learned Irish. One can sense their shifting sympathies in the letters. The plans for him to visit are coming through and again he speaks of the beginning of their courtship.

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How to cite

Letters 1916, published by the Austrian Centre for Digital Humanities, Vienna, 2026 (https://letters1916static.github.io/letters1916-static/item__5576.html)