My Daughter's Legacy

by Mindy Starns Clark

  “Oh, dear.” Therese wasn’t sure how to respond. The truth was, lots of babies died. Her mother had lost three that Therese knew about. All of the families she knew had lost at least one baby. It was a part of life, but now with the war on and a lack of food and other supplies, a pregnancy was even more dangerous. “How about if we pray for the Davises’ baby? And for your mother’s little one too?”

  Eleanor nodded and Therese bowed her head, saying a quick prayer. After she said, “Amen,” she got to work on the boots.

  “Do you get along well with Margaret Davis?” she asked, referring to the president’s oldest daughter.

  Eleanor’s eyes lit up. “I like her a lot.” Then her face fell. “But I’m not sure what to say to her now.”

  “Tell her you’re sorry for her loss. And that you’ve been thinking about her.”

  Eleanor’s eyes grew shiny with tears. “It’s nice she has a baby sister, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Eleanor. That’s wonderful.”

  The young girl took a deep breath. “I think you’ll like their house. It has gaslights.”

  “Really?” The school—now the hospital—had gaslights, but Therese hadn’t been in a home with them.

  Eleanor dropped her voice. “And a water closet.” She giggled.

  “Oh, my. It all sounds very modern.”

  After supper the family walked to the Davises’ home in the Court End neighborhood, which was about a mile away. Therese appreciated the warm evening after several days of rain, but a hint of autumn was in the air. Soon the weather would change for good.

  When they neared the Confederate White House, Lydia ran ahead and bolted up the steps.

  “Wait!” her father called out.

  A couple approached from behind. Mr. Galloway called out a hello, and Mrs. Galloway whispered, “Another clerk from the secretary of state’s office.” The woman carried a baby.

  As the Galloways and the other family started up the marble steps, Lydia knocked on the door. A butler opened it. He greeted Lydia and then the rest of the group, welcoming them into the home. As the butler announced the Galloway family, President Jefferson Davis and First Lady Varina Davis stepped forward to greet them. Therese tried not to seem rattled. Who would have ever thought she’d be in the presence of the couple she’d heard so much about? She didn’t agree with everything they stood for, but still she found it fascinating to be in their home.

  She thought of Rose O’Neal Greenhow’s memoir and how she used her access to important men in Washington to spy on them. Could Therese ever do the same, should the opportunity present itself? Standing in the Confederate White House, it didn’t seem to be that outlandish of an idea. There certainly had to be spies in Richmond.

  Several months before, Therese had heard that a couple of Davis household slaves had escaped with help from the Union after spying on them for years. The thought made her spine tingle, and she guessed that many of the slaves throughout the South had been spies their entire lives in one way or another. Their owners considered them practically invisible. It wouldn’t have been hard to gather information simply by listening as they went about their duties.

  When no one introduced or acknowledged Therese directly, she busied herself by gazing around the foyer and taking everything in. But when President Davis pulled Mr. Galloway aside and handed him a document that quickly disappeared into a pocket of her employer’s suit jacket, she found herself staring. Her heart raced at the realization of what sort of information Mr. Galloway must deal with every day. She quickly averted her eyes to two statues just as a young girl—most likely Margaret—skipped into the middle of the room. She greeted Eleanor and invited her up to the nursery with the other children.

  Mrs. Galloway nodded at Therese. “Go along with them,” she whispered. “Follow Margaret.”

  “Of course.” Therese would have liked to be included with the other adults, but such was the life of a governess.

  She directed Lydia and Florence to follow Margaret and Eleanor, bringing up the rear as they ascended the back staircase. On the third floor, as Therese walked down the hall toward the nursery, she glanced into a room that appeared to be an office, presumably President Davis’s. She’d heard that he conducted his business up here on the family floor, where he could have privacy from the hustle and bustle of the household downstairs. She shivered a little, imagining the decisions that took place behind his desk.

  The nursery was large, with rows of windows on the two outside walls. The carpet was bright and busy. The room held two small beds and a cradle as well as a larger bed, most likely for the children’s nurse. Margaret led the girls over to two small rocking chairs with porcelain dolls sitting in them. Therese simply observed, wondering where the other Davis children and nannies were. A few minutes later, a middle-aged black woman and two boys joined them. Therese guessed the woman was the nursemaid and the boys were Jefferson Jr., who would have been around seven, and William, who was two. The family certainly had a lot to keep track of between children, the war, and their politics.

  “Oh, good! You’re here already!”

  Therese turned to find Polly coming into the room with the two Baxter boys she taught. They were ten and eleven and didn’t look happy with being sent to the nursery. Therese greeted her friend, who then turned toward the other woman and said, “Beth, I’d like you to meet Therese. She’s the new governess for the Galloway family. Beth is the governess for the Davis family.”

  They greeted each other, and Therese asked Beth how long she’d been working for the Davises. “For a few years now. I came with them from Mississippi.”

  Therese knew Varina Davis had a bit of Yankee in her background. Her grandfather had been the governor of New Jersey, and though she was raised in the South, she was educated in Philadelphia and still had relatives in the North. Even so, Therese was surprised that they had a black woman teaching their children. So many things in life weren’t what she expected.

  Beth arranged a game of Daisy in the Dell, and all of the children joined in the fun. Another woman—a white one—holding an infant and wearing a large apron, came into the nursery and grabbed a blanket from the cradle. When William nearly crashed into her, she patted his head. “Careful, wee one,” she said, and then she left the room.

  As the children played, piano music and voices carried up through the floors. The adults sang a couple of hymns and then “Dixie” and “Bonnie Blue Flag.” As they began to sing “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” Beth changed the game to Simon Says.

  Polly and Therese stood against the wall and watched the children, talking about the work in the hospital. “Did you dream about it afterward?” Polly asked. “I did at first.”

  “Yes.” It had been disturbing, but she’d found it gratifying to care for the soldiers. She enjoyed the staff too. She told Polly that.

  “My handsome cousin in particular?” Polly nudged Therese with her elbow.

  Therese smiled. “Time will tell.” Had she been that obvious about her admiration of the man?

  “Just don’t tell anyone else you’re interested in him,” Polly whispered. “Lots of people aren’t happy with a Northern doctor coming to Richmond.”

  Therese could guess why not. “Is he generally vocal about his views? He was with me.”

  “No, not at all. He’s usually quite discreet. And, honestly, the two of you were speaking so quietly I couldn’t hear what was being said. I’m sure the patient couldn’t either—he most likely thought the whispering was about medical concerns.” She gave a reassuring smile. “Most importantly, I’ve never seen Alec not do his very best to save a patient, so in that way he’s neutral. But he is from Maine, and he is a Quaker. Everyone knows what his beliefs are.”

  “Why is he here?”

  Polly shrugged. “To save lives. He and Father stay in touch, so he knew the South didn’t have enough trained doctors. I guess the thought kept weighing on him until he decided to do what he could to assist. He had just finished working in
Boston and was about to return to his father’s practice in Maine, but he had been feeling called to help somehow, so he took advantage of the situation and came down here first. It has worked out well for everyone concerned.”

  Therese lowered her voice even more. “How exactly are the two of you related?”

  “Emmanuel Talbot emigrated to Virginia from England in 1704. His youngest son ended up going to Maine, and Dr. Talbot is his descendant.”

  “It’s amazing the two families kept in touch all of these years.”

  “Yes, well…” Polly grinned. “The Talbots seem to do that well. So do the Gillets, another branch of the family, the one back in France that Michael stayed with. It’s pretty amazing.”

  One of the “maids” brought up a tray of cookies for the children, and they all sat around in a circle to have their snack as she lit the gaslights and then closed the curtains. Watching the woman work, Therese decided that this euphemism for slaves was as equally offensive as Mother’s favorite, “servants.”

  Eleanor spoke quietly to Margaret as they ate, and then the two girls sat and held hands.

  Therese put her arm around Polly. “I’m so thankful for you and that we can be in Richmond together.”

  Polly hugged her back. “It’s a dream to have you here.”

  After a while the music downstairs stopped. Therese guessed the adults were having refreshments too.

  “I volunteered at the hospital last night,” Polly said. “I’m going to try to go every Wednesday evening. Do you think Mr. Galloway would allow you to add Wednesdays to your schedule?”

  “I’ll ask.” Therese liked the idea. She loved teaching the three Galloway girls, but after just one day of volunteering, she longed to do more of it—and to get better at nursing the wounded as soon as she could.

  Polly nudged her again. “And you’d get to see more of Alec.”

  Therese couldn’t help but smile. Polly knew what Therese’s father’s views had been about slavery, although life was a lot more complicated now than it had been when her parents fell in love twenty-three years ago. Sadly, Michael hadn’t turned out to be the man she thought he was.

  On the other hand, his cousin Alec seemed kind, intelligent, and quite interesting. Perhaps she’d finally met the right Talbot for her.

  When Therese and the girls returned to the others in the foyer, Mrs. Galloway and Varina Davis were deep in conversation. Mr. Galloway ushered the girls outside and Therese followed, feeling awkward standing next to him as they waited. He was cordial enough, but she had no idea what to talk with him about. Polly left with her family, and all of the other guests did too. Mrs. Galloway slipped out the front door and came down the steps.

  Eleanor took Therese’s hand as they walked, and then Florence took her other one. Lydia skipped ahead.

  “Stay close,” Mrs. Galloway called out.

  After a few minutes of silence, Eleanor whispered, “It was good to see Margaret.”

  Therese squeezed the girl’s hand, happy to have witnessed the young friendship. It had been fascinating to catch a glimpse of the Confederate first family. She’d heard rumors that Varina Davis was a harsh woman who treated others badly. She hadn’t seen that tonight, not in person. She seemed to genuinely care about Mrs. Galloway.

  Everyone, Therese included, was capable of doing good or bad. She’d like to think that it simply came down to one’s choices, but she feared, as with Mother, that perhaps it became more complicated than that as one aged. She sincerely hoped she’d take the moral high road, and she guessed that marrying a man of principle would help her do so. Sadly, Michael no longer fit that description.

  The next morning, Therese sat in the dining room and read in the Richmond Daily Dispatch that the Union Army had crossed the James River to attack the Richmond defenses, but the Confederates rallied, contained the breakthrough, and counterattacked.

  As she read, Mr. and Mrs. Galloway stood in the hall, most likely unaware she was within hearing distance. “Lee will reinforce the lines north of the James,” Mr. Galloway said. “Unfortunately, that means weakening the lines at Petersburg.”

  “Now, now,” Mrs. Galloway said. “Try not to fret too much.”

  Their voices trailed on down the hall, and a moment later the patter of the girls’ feet coming down the stairs distracted Therese.

  She tried not to worry about Warner, but she couldn’t help but wonder what the change in positioning would mean for him. Perhaps he’d be moved north. Either way, it sounded as if he would be more at risk. It sounded as if they all were.

  She put on a smile for the girls, doing her best to ignore her concerns. That afternoon she went on a walk again with the children after dinner. When they were nearly back around to the row house, they could see up ahead that a buggy was parked out front—Grandfather’s buggy, with Badan in the driver’s seat.

  Therese’s heart raced, worried that he’d come with bad news, perhaps about Warner, but she didn’t say so to the girls. When they neared the buggy, Therese called out a hello. Shading her eyes, she asked, “Is everything all right?”

  “I think so, Miss Therese,” Badan said. “Your mother’s inside.”

  The girls led the way. When Therese entered the house, Mrs. Galloway called out to her from the parlor. The girls hurried in first, followed by Therese. Mrs. Galloway introduced them to her guest and then told them to go to their rooms for a rest. Mother seemed calm and collected.

  “Hello.” Therese stepped forward to give her mother a hug. “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought some fresh produce. I received your letter yesterday. We brought a box of apples and a few things from the garden.”

  “They’ve been delivered to the kitchen,” Mrs. Galloway said. “And we are ever so grateful.” She beamed at Mother. Then she stood and said she was going to go rest too and leave them to visit. She curtsied to Mother. “It’s been a delight to meet you, Mrs. Jennings. Therese has blessed our family. Both of your children are now serving their country.”

  Mother nodded vaguely, and then she told the woman goodbye. After Mrs. Galloway left, Mother wiped a tear from her eye. “I’ve been missing you terribly. Much worse than I anticipated.”

  “It hasn’t even been a week.” Therese hated seeing Mother this way. On the other hand, at least neediness was better than anger.

  Mother’s blond hair was pulled back in a bun, but a strand had come loose. Therese noticed a thin streak of gray.

  “What have you been doing to stay busy?” Therese asked.

  Mother shrugged. “Missing you and Warner. Thinking about your father.”

  “Maybe you could help Auntie Vera with the house chores.” Mother had cleaned and done the wash when they lived at the academy.

  She shook her head. “I’m too tired for that.” She inhaled sharply. “I want you to come home.”

  Therese narrowed her eyes. “Have you… has anything changed?”

  To her credit, Mother almost looked ashamed as she lowered her eyes to the floor and replied in a whisper. “I can’t free them.”

  “Then I can’t come home.” Therese was pleased at how easily the words rolled off her tongue. But then Mother looked so miserable that for a moment she almost felt sorry for her.

  “Remember,” she added in a low voice, “this family is depending on me, just as Father’s students depended on him. Not to mention that I’m actually making money here—most of which I’ll be sending on to you.”

  Mother nodded, seeming mollified. They both knew how badly they needed that.

  “We went to the home of the Davis family last night,” Therese offered with a smile.

  Mother looked up. “President Davis’s?”

  “Yes.”

  She leaned forward. “What was it like?”

  “I only saw the foyer and the nursery, but it seemed very nice.” She told Mother all the details she could think of, but then she said it was time to get back to the girls’ lessons.

  “Yes. Of course
.” They both stood.

  “Come see me again when you can,” Therese told her. “Thank you so much for bringing the apples and produce.” She knew the entire family would appreciate it.

  “I had a letter from Warner this morning,” Mother said.

  “Oh?”

  “Michael Talbot is in his unit, remember?”

  With a nod, Therese told her mother about seeing Michael at the hospital on Sunday night.

  “Therese! I don’t want you working at a hospital. No matter what Polly says, it’s not proper for a lady.”

  She sighed. “They need help, Mother. You know that. Caring for the wounded is the Christian thing to do. I’m going to start volunteering on Wednesdays too with Polly.” Mr. Galloway had given her his blessing the evening before.

  Mother huffed, but she let it go for now. “I can see you haven’t had much time to miss me,” she said instead, her tone betraying her hurt.

  “No, I do miss you.” Therese had written to her every night, just as she’d promised. “You should have a letter each day.”

  “It’s not enough. I want you home. It’s not safe here. There are too many people, too much commotion.” Lowering her voice to an anxious whisper, she added, “From what I hear, there are spy networks everywhere.”

  Therese had to stifle a smile, remembering thoughts from the night before. “Spy networks?”

  Mother nodded gravely. “Who knows what dangers lurk in the shadows?”

  Therese could no longer contain her smile. “You’re thinking of that memoir we both read at Grandfather’s about the spy. Isn’t that right?”

  Mother smiled a little. “Well, yes.”

  “There you go. You just have spies on the mind. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Therese was sure she had absolutely no chance of encountering any spy networks herself.

  She walked her mother out to the buggy and then waited as Badan helped her get settled. She waved as they started off, but Mother didn’t look back.