George Washingtons Last Duel | Page 3

much as she wanted to know she would with
her wisdom eclipse Solomon and destroy the value of the Scriptures.
He finally hit upon an expedient. He either traversed every proposition
she suggested, or else answered every inquiry with a statement which
was simply astounding. She had therefore not been at the Towers a
week before she was in the possession of facts furnished by the Major
which might have staggered credulity itself.
One of the many entries in her journal was to the effect that, according
to Major B----, it was the custom on many plantations to shoot a slave
every year, on the ground that such a sacrifice was generally salutary;
that it was an expiation of past derelictions and a deterrent from
repetition. And she added this memorandum:
"The most extraordinary and revolting part of it all is that this
barbarous custom, which might well have been supposed confined to
Dahomey, is justified by such men as Major B---- as a pious act." She
inserted this query,
"Can it be true?"
If she did not wholly believe the Major, she did not altogether
disbelieve him. She at least was firmly convinced that it was quite
possible. She determined to inquire privately of George Washington.

She might have inquired of one of the numerous maids, whose useless
presence embarrassed her; but the Major foreseeing that she might
pursue her investigation in other directions, had informed her that the
rite was guarded with the greatest care, and that it would be as much as
any one's life were worth to divulge it. Miss Jemima, therefore, was too
loyal to expose one of her own sex to such danger; so she was
compelled to consult George Washington, whom she believed clever
enough to take care of himself.
She accordingly watched several days for an opportunity to see him
alone, but without success. In fact, though she was unaware of it,
George Washington had conceived for her a most violent dislike, and
carefully avoided her. He had observed with growing suspicion Miss
Jemima's investigation of matters relating to the estate, and her
persistent pursuit of knowledge at the table had confirmed him in his
idea that she contemplated the capture of his master and himself.
Like his master, he had a natural antipathy to "old women," and as the
Major's threat for years had varied between "setting him free next
morning" and giving him "a mistress to make him walk straight,"
George Washington felt that prudence demanded some vigilance on his
part.
One day, under cover of the hilarity incident to the presence at dinner
of Jeff and of his guest, Mr. Lawrence, Miss Jemima had pushed her
inquisition even further than usual. George Washington watched her
with growing suspicion, his head thrown back and his eyes half closed,
and so, when, just before dinner was over, he went into the hall to see
about the fire, he, after his habit, took occasion to express his opinion
of affairs to the sundry members of the family who looked down at him
from their dim gilt frames on the wall.
"I ain't pleased wid de way things is gwine on heah at all," he declared,
poking the fire viciously and addressing his remark more particularly to
an old gentlemen who in ruffles and red velvet sat with crossed legs in
a high-backed chair just over the piano. "Heah me an' Marse Nat an'
Miss Margaret been gittin' long all dese years easy an' peaceable, an'
Marse Jeff been comin' over sociable all de time, an' d' ain' been no

trouble nor nuttin' till now dat ole ooman what ax mo' questions 'n a
thousan' folks kin answer got to come heah and set up to Marse Nat, an'
talk to him so he cyarn hardly eat." He rose from his knees at the hearth,
and looking the old gentleman over the piano squarely in the face,
asserted, "She got her mine sot on bein' my mistis, dat's what 'tis!" This
relieved him so that he returned to his occupation of "chunking" the fire,
adding, "When women sets de mines on a thing, you jes' well gin up!"
So intent was he on relieving himself of the burden on his mind that he
did not hear the door softly open, and did not know any one had
entered until an enthusiastic voice behind him exclaimed:
"Oh! what a profound observation!" George Washington started in
much confusion; for it was Miss Jemima, who had stolen away from
the table to intercept him at his task of "fixing the fires." She had,
however, heard only his concluding sentence, and she now advanced
with a beaming smile intended to conciliate the old butler. George
Washington gave the hearth a final and hasty sweep, and was retiring in
a