Chapter 8

Claire tried to rest in bed. The medicine she took eased the pain just a bit.

“She should be herself in a few days,” the physician told Mary Windham.

“I don’t want any word of this to get out,” she told the Frenchman standing at the foot of Claire’s bed.

Jean-Claude Robert was a respected physician who was at a conference in New York. He had performed the “procedure” a few times before Europe, but never in America. He had performed more of the operations during visits to the Ottomon Empire.

“Here are the medications and herbs she will need,” he told her. “The effectiveness of the medications, if you ask European physicians is theoretical, but the Islamic physicians I’ve talked to say they can be very effective if taken for most of her life.”

He assured her of absolute secrecy.

“If word gets out I perform such a procedure, I could be ruined Madame,” he said. “It is as important to my reputation is it is yours that this does not get out.”

“I will make sure your research institution receives a very generous contribution,” Mary Windham said. “I look forward to visiting when Claire and I travel to Europe.”

“Your previous contributions have been most helpful Madame,” Dr. Robert said. “It is helping fight diseases we only dreamed of being able to cure just a few short years ago. We look forward to showing you and Miss Claire our facilities during your visit to Paris.”

“Well, I appreciate you coming her at my request,” Mary Windham said. “I know it was an unusual request for you to perform.”

“If it makes Madamoselle Claire’s life a little easier, I’m glad to do it,” he said before departing south for New York.

“How are you feeling?” she asked Claire after the doctor departed the house.

“I feel a little numb,” Claire said as she hugged Beatrice tight.

“I will make sure Mirilla brings you some nice hot soup, my darling,” Mrs. Windham said.

*****

Claire held her breath as Mirilla tied the corset a little tight. It helped give her body a little more shape before she got into the dress.

It was a special occasion. It was the first time she’d ever worn a hoop skirt before with a petticoat, the whole works. She walked gingerly down the stairs to the parlor, where her mother, Becky and Becky’s mother were waiting.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” Lydia Randolph said.

“I think Becky looks beautiful, too,” Claire said.

All of the women did. Myron complimented them as they walked outside to the carriage. Myron helped each one of the ladies into the carriage before their short ride to Eden Hills Methodist Episcopal Church.

Waiting outside were Willa van Husan, Robert, Eli, Samuel and Lucas. Standing with them was a young soldier dressed in a clean uniform.

“I think it’s wonderful that Ross was able to make it,” Lydia Randolph said.

Ross van Husan was Willem van Husan’s son. He was an officer in a New York regiment of the Army of the Potomac.

“With the army in Pennsylvania, he was able to secure a short pass,” Mary Windham told her friend.

Claire worried that Eli, Samuel, Robert or Lucas would notice who she was. Her mother assured her that she had changed so much, her hair was different, and her clothes, that perhaps only Meggie would know who she was.

Her mother was correct. Claire tried to be as polite as could be when Willa introduced the younger boys to her.

Much to her surprise, Lucas was well mannered and polite as well. He had actually moved into the cottage with his mother before his father’s confrontation at the mercantile.

He had shown his mother nothing but respect after moving back in. Willem van Husan had a remarkable influence on him. According to her mother, Lucas was considering joining the army in a few months.

“It would be good for him,” Mary Windham said. “He needs the discipline.”

“I’ll bet Meggie will be afraid he will get killed in the war,” Claire said.

“Claire, you are to call her Mrs. Van Husan in public,” Mrs. Windham said, making sure Becky and her mother heard. “You need to show her nothing but your utmost respect.”

“I will momma,” Claire said.

Her mouth dropped when she walked into the church. Her ma — Meggie O’Hara — stood near the alter in a beautiful dress that Claire and Mrs. Windham bought for her.

“Doesn’t she look lovely momma?” Claire whispered to Mary Windham.

“Yes she does,” she replied. “We have good taste.”

Willem van Husan walked out wearing his old uniform he wore during the Mexican War.

“He looks very nice,” Lydia Randolph said.

“Mother said he practically had to starve himself over the last couple of weeks to get into the uniform,” Becky whispered to Claire.

Rev. Andrew Harkness was the pastor of the church. He was what Mary Windham called a “circuit riding” preacher who also pastored two other churches nearby. She was concerned he would come in all dusty from his riding, but he wore his best.

The wedding ceremony was a simple affair. Rev. Harkness prepared beautiful vows and it was a beautiful ceremony. But Meggie having been Catholic and Willem having not attended church much at all, they wanted to keep it simple. They didn’t want too much talk in town.

With the exception of the presence of the Windhams and the Randolphs, the wedding was hardly a high-society affair.

Rev. Harkness agreed to hold the ceremony after a generous contribution from Mrs. Windham and Mrs. Randolph. Both of their families were charter members of the church. Meggie and Willem also agreed to start attending the church.

“We appreciate the carriage ride to our honeymoon,” Willem van Husan said to Mary Windham.

“You’ve been good to me through the years, Willem van Husan,” she replied. “I hear the Catskills are lovely this time of year.”

“Yes, and we have a very lovely country inn picked out,” the Dutchman said.

“Why Claire, you look very lovely,” Meggie van Husan said as she hugged her.

“You look very beautiful, too, Mrs. Van Husan, Claire whispered back. She realized it sounded very, vary awkward.

But she was glad the young woman from Ireland was finally finding happiness and the comfortable life she looked forward to when she and Walter O’Hara boarded the ship for America those many years ago.

*****

“The noise sounded like it was coming from the stables,” Claire told Becky as they ran down the path at Windham Manor.

Claire picked out a lantern and went into the dark building. She checked the horses, including Collette. They all seemed to be there and healthy.

“You can never be sure, there may be horse thieves,” she whispered to her friend Becky.

“Horse thieves?” Becky said. “Why Claire Windham, you sure have a big imagination.”

“Well, you never know,” Claire said as they continued to search the barn for anything out of place.

“Becky, come here!” she said as she stood in front of what was supposed to be an empty stall.

“Oh my!” Becky said as they looked at a woman and two small children. “Do you think they’re runaways?”

“They have to be runaway slaves,” Claire said. “Don’t hide, we won’t hurt you. We’re here to help you.”

She whispered to Becky to go get Myron.

“He will know what to do,” Claire said reassuringly.

Myron and the two girls led the woman and her children up to the house. Mrs. Windham welcomed them into her home.

“Mirilla, go get them something to eat,” she said. “Myron, contact the Freedmen’s Society.”

She went and picked out some clean clothes for the woman and her children. She took the woman into her bedroom and called for Claire.

Claire was shocked at the sight. The woman’s back had stripes from where she had been whipped on the plantation where she had been a slave in Virginia.

“I am surprised they made it this far north,” she said. “This is why we’ve got to win this war.”

She told Claire that Windham Manor was a discreet stop on the Underground Railroad, a point where escaped slaves could stay on their way to freedom. Mary Windham had been a silent supporter of the abolitionists’ cause, which made her property an ideal spot for runaways.

Because she was not vocal in the movement, Southerners seeking to return slaves to their owners under the fugitive slave law didn’t have a reason to believe Windham Manor was a stopping point for runaways.

“We haven’t had as many since the war began,” she told Claire. “They are the first we’ve had since before Emily died.”

The family would stay at Windham Manor for the night. Members of the Freedmen’s Society would come by in the morning to help them find a more permanent place to stay.

It seemed to Claire that her mother was good at taking in refugees. She remembered that she took in Meggie O’Hara and her little brothers on a fateful night not long before.

She also knew how the runaways felt. She once felt trapped herself, like a slave in the slums next to the river.

She was just beginning to understand what freedom really felt like.

*****

“Stop fidgeting, Claire!” Mary Windham said as Claire sat for a portrait.

It wasn’t easy to do for a 12-year-old girl, especially when your best friend was making faces at you.

“Rebecca Randolph, stop making faces at Claire,” Mrs. Windham said. “I’ve paid good money for this artist. He’s come a long way. I want a good portrait of Claire.”

“Yes, Mrs. Windham, I’m so sorry,” Becky said.

Claire and Mary Windham were walking the hallways one day, looking at portraits of members of the Windham family, including Mary Windham, Emily, her mother Emily and aunt Claire. There was one of Mary Windham and her mother. There was also one of Mary Windham and Emily.

It dawned on Mary Windham there was no portrait of Claire. And none of her with her second child. So she hired an artist from Albany, the same one who painted Emily’s portrait and the one of her and Emily.

Claire did her best to keep still. It wasn’t easy. A fly landed on her nose. She tried to blow it off her nose while still looking dignified. She was relieved when the fly finally flew off and out of the window.

“Your doing fine, Claire,” Mary Windham said.

She picked out the dress that Claire wore. She also picked out the bouquet of flowers that Claire held as the artist went about his work.

“It’s going to be a very good portrait,” Mary Windham whispered to Becky.

Claire was just hoping the artist would hurry up and finish the job. Unfortunately, there would be other sittings before the portrait would become complete. Then she had to sit for a portrait with her mother.

She was thankful when the sitting was finally completed. She and Becky went out to the garden to play Games of Graces and a few other games.

They were out of breath from all of the fun they were having and decided to take a break and sat on the edge of the fountain.

“Have you told your mother about seeing Emily?” Becky said. She was fascinated about what Claire told her about her “dream” meeting with her “sister.”

“Maybe she’s a ghost,” Becky said. “Maybe she’s out here now.”

Claire giggled. “Yes, and I’m sure you’re going to try to call her to come and appear to us.”

“Seriously, I don’t think she’s a ghost,” Claire said. “She didn’t appear to me when I was conscious. She didn’t appear to be…what does Myron call it?…an aber…rition? She looked to have a full body to me. She also doesn’t have any unfinished business. And Myron said most ghosts have unfinished business.”

“Maybe she has unfinished business and we don’t know about it,” Becky said.

Claire jabbed her with her elbow. “Now you’re being silly!”

“Well, maybe she’s an angel, then,” Becky said.

“Well, we like to think people that we love who die become angels,” Claire said. “But Rev. Harkness said people don’t become angels when they die. They just go to heaven or hell. But Catholics also believe people go to purgatory.”

Claire told Becky she still wasn’t sure the dream was real.

“It felt so real,” she said. “And there have been so many coincidences.”

“Well, my friend, I believe I know what you’re going to be when you grow up,” Becky said.

“And what is that?” Claire asked.

“Claire Windham, the great philosopher,” Becky laughed.

*****

Whoever came up with the idea that ladies should wear hoop dresses should be shot, Claire thought as she tried to walk and negotiate her way through tight spaces and doorways.

“Come on, little miss slowpoke,” Mary Windham laughed. “We’ll be late for church.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” Claire said.

“Very funny!” her mother said. “Rev. Harkness is looking forward to your flute solo and you, and Rebecca and you singing.”

Claire put on her hat and grabbed parasol before they stepped into the carriage. It was a beautiful day for a carriage ride, even if it was a little hot.

“Let me help you down, ladies,” Myron said after they arrived at church. Mirilla also accompanied them.

The church was a bit crowded, but the Windhams had their own pew, which had plaques bearing the names of the Windham family. Sitting in the pew right behind them were Becky and her mother.

Other women in the Sanitary Society were also there. Sitting in the back was the van Husen family, there as Willem promised.

Meggie winked at Claire as they walked by.

“Doesn’t she look radiant, Claire?” Mary Windham said.

“She looks very happy,” Claire said.

The service was a traditional, but a lot different than the Catholic services the O’Hara family used to go to. The people were more well-to-do.

Rev. Harkness sometimes preached fire and brimstone sermons. That took a little getting used to.

Rev. Harkness asked for prayer for members of the church who were off at wore. They sang several hymns.

“Now we have a treat,” Rev. Harkness said. “Young Claire Windham is going to play a lovely tune for us on her flute. Then she and Rebecca Randolph will sing a song for us.”

For Claire, it was really her introduction to high-society even though she had been coming to the church for a few Sundays.

She did her best to play a worshipful tune, a new one, but one that was becoming a church favorite, “Nearer O God to Thee.”

She and Becky also tried to raise the roof while they sang “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing!”

“It is so angelic,” Mirilla told Mary Windham, who was in tears.

Claire noticed both Mary Windham and Meggie van Husan in tears.

“It is so very beautiful,” Meggie told Willem.

There was a time when she regretted giving up her child to Mary Windham. She no longer regretted giving her up.

In giving her up, she realized that she set her free.