May 1791

Richmond, Virginia

The clock was made by Isaac Brokaw. Camden knew that the craftsmanship was of the finest quality and that it had cost his mentor, Mr. Joseph Randolph, a handsome sum to have it carefully transported from Mr. Brokaw's shop in New Jersey here to the law office. Despite the investment of both time and money that had gone into the clock's ultimate placement a few feet from where he was now working--and despite his repeated reassurances to himself that it could not actually be true--he remained in a constant state of mild agitation at the thought that this new clock ticked and tocked decidedly louder than the previous one had ever done. Insisting to himself for what must have been the tenth time this half hour that it was only his imagination, he refocused himself on the task at hand. Across the room Mr. Randolph, half-buried in a teetering mound of papers, was himself also poring over a stack of documents that each of them had carefully reviewed many times already.

"Perhaps not carefully enough quite yet, my young friend," had been the older attorney's decision on the matter. "When the stakes are this high, Mr. Page, we can never be too thorough."

Camden had his doubts about the universal application of such a statement, but he could not disagree that the case was a very important one. The parting between Kentucky and Virginia had been a peaceful one; everyone had agreed on that much from the outset. In fact, the secession process had seemed almost too good to be true at some points. The residents of Kentucky had evidenced a clear desire to govern themselves for some years now and politicians in Richmond saw the growing difficulty of taking responsibility for and governing places that could take weeks to reach. Neither those in Kentucky nor those in Virginia had wanted to be ruled by a monarch across a vast ocean; now neither could see the necessity of men on one side of the Appalachian Mountains governing men on the other. An ordinance of secession raced through the General Assembly with little in the way of serious opposition. Now, however, all that progress stood in jeopardy.

Forts and their garrisons were transferred over without argument. Militia units stood ready to exchange their insignia and regimental colors. Virginia could not, however, give up the entire store of muskets that had been shipped to the western frontier. The remaining threat of Indian raids from across the Ohio River loomed over almost all other considerations. The stockpile of muskets and other small arms at Lexington had been the sticking point. The commander of Kentucky's forces there refused to surrender them when representatives from Virginia came to effect the weapons' return. Going to Lexington, as they had, unprepared for a negative response, the representatives returned to Richmond empty-handed. Correspondence with the newly-elected Governor of Kentucky, James Wilkinson, reached an impasse almost immediately. Seeing no other recourse, Governor John Tyler resolved to take the matter to the relatively new Court of Appeals. It would be the first case of its kind--one to resolve a dispute between two states who were admitted to the Confederation--and one for which the court had been expressly amended into the Articles of Confederation. Mr. Randolph's reputation had only grown over the last several years and so he was the natural choice to litigate the case on behalf of Virginia.

And so it was that not only the peaceful relations among the American states was at issue, but also the capability and the legitimacy of the new Court of Appeals depended, at least in part, on Camden's going over this same set of documents yet one more time.

He was working his way through the text of the partition ordinance when he was sure that his eyes were starting to play tricks on him. He read the lines to himself again: "The muskets and other small arms transferred to the garrison in and around the town of Lexington by order of the Governor of the Commonwealth of Virginia, and dated September 14, 1789, shall be retained by the proposed Commonwealth of Kentucky." But that had to be wrong. These were the very arms at issue and Camden knew that the partition ordinance said that it had said that the arms "shall not be retained."

"Mr. Randolph, I must be getting wearier than I thought. Will you look at this for me, please?"

The older gentleman peered at his apprentice over his spectacles and motioned for him to come over to where he was seated.

Seating himself in his usual chair across the desk from Mr. Randolph passed the sheet across the desk, turned it upright to face Mr. Randolph, and indicated the seemingly problematic portion with his finger.

"There. Article three, clause three."

Mr. Randolph studied the words for a moment, held the document up to allow more of the light from the lamp to fall on it and muttered the words almost under his breath.

"Where did this come from, Mr. Page? What other documents was this bound up with?"

Camden strode back across the room and located the stack from which he had been working. He pulled the note that was fixed to the top of the stack with a bit of string and handed it to Mr. Randolph. Pushing the lenses back up the bridge of his nose, Mr. Randolph examined the note carefully.

"Look over there by the shelf with the novels, Mr. Page. I believe the copy of the ordinance I was reviewing is over there. Bring the note with it."

Camden dutifully complied with the instruction and watched with interest as Mr. Randolph examined the two notes and two copies of the ordinance side-by-side.

Mr. Randolph set his spectacles on the desk and rubbed his hands over his face and then through the remaining wisps of his sandy but graying hair. Then he sat back in his chair and let out a subdued chuckle.

"That it should be so simple . . ." was all he managed to say at first. "Look at those copies and those notes and see if you come to the same conclusion that I did."

Camden seated himself again and arranged the papers to examine them closely. Indeed the copy from which he had been reading had omitted the crucial "not," but the copy he had retrieved for Mr. Randolph read that the arms in question "shall not be retained by the proposed Commonwealth of Kentucky," as Camden had remembered at first. Then he examined the notes. The stack of papers from which he retrieved the second copy of the ordinance were labelled as "Official Copies of Partition Documents Deposited at Richmond." Turning to the note from the other stack, he saw that it read, "Copies of Partition Documents Produced by Colonel Cyrus Crutchfield, Commander of the Kentucky Militia at Lexington."

Camden felt Mr. Randolph's eyes on him as he tried to piece together the significance of the documents. Then, all at once, it dawned on him.

"Colonel Crutchfield was given an erroneous copy of the partition ordinance!" he blurted.

"So it would seem," Mr. Randolph replied.

The absurdity of the situation overcame them both at the same time and they burst out in peals of laughter, the kind of laughter that seemed to have abandoned them entirely since undertaking to prosecute the case. Once the case was over, Camden was sure that Georgiana would also see the humor--rather dark humor though it was--in the situation. Then, also, they would have more time to spend together, something they each longed for with equal fervor.

"This should make it a relatively easy matter to come to a settlement over the muskets. The Kentuckians have compensated Virginia as per the agreement on every other point," Mr. Randolph said, the relief clearly evident in his tone of voice. "I have little doubt that the amicable tenor of the partition will resume upon revelation of this clear mistake." Camden nodded, sharing in Mr. Randolph's confidence.

Just then they heard the front door open and quickly close. Camden knew who the visitor was without having to look and he rose quickly to meet his beloved Georgiana.

She gave him a kiss of greeting on the cheek. Then with the playfully wicked spark in her eyes that he had come to love and dread in often equal parts, she said, "But I haven't come to see you, Mr. Page." He had come to understand that she delighted in teasing him with such unnecessary formalities, if only to see what new way he had come up with to gently chide her. "I have a note for my uncle from one of my father's colleagues in the Privy Council."

"And he could find no more convenient messenger than yourself?" Mr. Randolph asked.

"My dear Uncle Joseph," Georgiana began, transferring the object of her feigned scorn from the younger man to the elder. "What more trustworthy individual in my father's household could possibly undertake such a task than I, your dearest niece?"

"Oh, let's have the note then, Georgiana."

Mr. Randolph rolled his eyes as if he were exasperated, but by the ever-so-slightly upturned corners of his mouth, Camden could tell that the man was just as amused with his niece's witty and innocent banter as ever. Georgiana passed him the note, which was unsealed, and seated herself near the window.

"Hmm," was Mr. Randolph's only reaction upon reading the note.

"Anything you can share with us, Uncle?"

"Perhaps the gentleman intended the information to have been passed in confidence. I cannot say for sure. Regardless, it will soon be general knowledge in Richmond. If there is any fixed star in the current political constellation of our two Commonwealths it is the oversized personality and hopelessly inflated sense of self-importance of James Wilkinson, who will, this note informs me, arrive in Richmond no later than tomorrow afternoon."

Georgiana stifled a laugh at her uncle's assessment of the new Governor of Kentucky. She unsuccessfully attempted to hide her outburst of mirth behind her handkerchief when Camden glanced in her direction.

"That must be of some help to us, Mr. Randolph, is it not? The Governor surely can help bring the case to a successful conclusion if he is here in person," Camden asked.

"I delight myself, Mr. Page, in the present reminder that the young are forever full of a seemingly endless supply of hope and trust. You and my niece would find each other quite intolerable if such were not the case."

Camden and Georgiana exchanged a momentary, quizzical glance, after which Georgiana openly succumbed to an outburst of laughter.