Williamsburg, James City County, Virginia

Georgiana and Sophia had taken the earliest coach from Richmond and arrived in Williamsburg late into that same evening. They would have to secure lodgings for the night, a contingency for which Georgiana soon found that she was not quite prepared. Eventually she was able to pay for a room at a local boarding house and no one seemed to give a second look to Sophia when she came upstairs after Georgiana.

They arrived at the offices of the clerk of court as soon as possible the next morning. Neither one of the women wanted to waste any time.

“I hope you’ll be able to direct us to the repository of wills that have been probated over the last few years,” Georgiana asked a young man who was seated near the door.

The junior clerk seemed momentarily confused. “One moment, please, ma’am. Let me ask Mr. Thompson.”

The young man slid down from the stool where he had been seated and walked to the back of the large room. He stopped at a desk where a much older man was seated and then bent low to exchange a few hushed words. The older man eventually looked up and peered at Georgiana over his spectacles. He rose and hobbled over to the front of the room, stopping directly in front of Georgiana and Sophia. Age had taken its toll and although neither of them were particularly tall women, Sophia and Georgiana could easily see the top of the man’s head where only a few wisps of snowy hair remained.

“Good morning, ma’am. I am Mr. Josiah Thompson, the Clerk of Court here.”

He removed his spectacles, folded them, and placed them in a chest pocket in his vest. Georgiana felt the gesture a silly one, given that the man squinted at them after that.

“With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” he asked.

“My name is Georgiana Burwell of Richmond. This is Sophia Freeman, formerly of James City County. We have come in search of a copy of a will that concerns her husband. We were hoping you might be able to assist us.”

“I’m afraid that will be quite impossible, Miss Burwell.”

Georgiana could tell that he was looking past her to Sophia who was standing just behind her right shoulder. In addition, she gathered that he did not care that she knew he was looking past her. She felt righteous indignation rising in her chest, but pressed it down. What they were here to do was far too important to anger the one man who had the means to thwart their efforts.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Thompson. Is this not where copies of wills that have been submitted to probate in this county are stored for safekeeping?”

Without taking his gaze off of Sophia, he said, “Miss Burwell, I am a very busy man. Regretfully, we will be unable to accommodate your request to examine records at this time.” He looked back at Georgiana and continued, “If you will excuse me, please, I have much to attend to this morning. Please see them out, Christopher.” He waved a shriveling hand toward the young man and returned to his desk in the back without another word.

“We can find our own way, thank you,” Georgiana said, with all the politeness she could muster.

Outside she was surprised to see that Sophia wore an expression not of fear or anxiety, but of something that Georgiana could not quite describe. “We’ll think of something,” she said. “Freeing your husband doesn’t have to end here.”

“I know that, Miss Burwell. I know you’re doing everything you can and so is Mr. Page. It’s more than I had any cause to expect and I thank you both for it from the bottom of my heart.”

Sophia stared down the street for a long moment, as coaches, horses, and pedestrians continued to pass by.

“But even if your best and Mr. Page’s best isn’t enough in the end, it will be all right. All things work together for good to them that love God. I believe that and so does Isaac. It’s not always easy to see, but it’s always true.”

Georgiana was familiar with that passage from the Bible, but was not sure she would have thought of it, had their situations been reversed. Nevertheless, she must not become distracted. They must act, and they must do so soon.

Just then, the young man from inside the clerk’s office came darting out, nearly colliding with Sophia and Georgiana who had remained relatively close to the entrance.

“Terribly sorry, ma’am!” he exclaimed as he rushed by. “I’m late for a lecture at the law school and I dare not miss another one. The professors at William and Mary don’t take kindly to absences.”

He ran off in one direction and Georgiana and Sophia slowly started away in the other. Before they had gone very far, however, Georgiana stopped in her tracks, and took Sophia by the arm. “William and Mary!” she exclaimed. Sophia gave her a puzzled look. “I know who might be able to help us,” Georgiana said. Turning around they headed back in the direction they had come and continued after the tardy young clerk who was headed to a lecture.

Shortly thereafter they arrived at the house Georgiana had been looking for, and not a moment too late. A man was just emerging and locking up when Georgiana called to him, “Judge Tucker! May I speak with you, please?”

Recognizing her immediately, St. George Tucker addressed himself to her: “Miss Burwell, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I sense that it must be a matter of some urgency that brings you to Williamsburg?”

“Indeed it is, Judge Tucker. This is my friend, Sophia Freeman. Her husband is one of Mr. Page’s clients. I was hoping you might be of some assistance to us at the clerk’s office.”

A few hours later, Georgiana and Sophia found themselves in the same large room that had been so inhospitable that same morning. Now, however, they were seated at a table that had been brought out specially for their use with a handful of dusty volumes piled on it. All that then remained to them was to find the will of Isaac’s former owner. It was well into the afternoon when the clerk came to ask, “You are, of course, welcome to stay as long as you need, Miss Burwell. I trust your search is going well?”

“Thank you, Mr. Thompson,” she said, finding it perilously difficult to maintain her composure in the face of his fraudulent manners. He had already shown his true colors, but she refused to stoop to his level.

“I think this might be it,” Sophia said. “Do you want to take a look?” She slid the large volume over to Georgiana who examined the page closely. Everything seemed to be there: the name of the testator, the date and place of execution, and the portion of the will that gave Isaac his freedom. It read that the testator devised “to all my slaves now born or hereafter to be born, whilst their mothers are in the service of me or my heirs, to be free at the age of thirty years.” Something about the wording sounded odd to Georgiana, but she would be the first to admit that she knew almost nothing about wills and estates. What tidbits she had picked up from sitting around her uncle’s office were probably less than useless without the fuller context that a legal education would have afforded someone like Camden.

“Yes, this is it,” she said to Sophia. The two could not help exchanging a smile with one another. Georgian had seen Sophia look resolute, even peaceful, at various times, but seeing her look genuinely happy for the first time, gave her hope as well.