"George Washington's" Last Duel: 1891

In Short

This narrative centers on Major B—, a prideful, boisterous Virginia planter who prides himself on keeping his estate, "The Towers," free from the influence of "old women." When his niece, Margaret, invites the earnest but inquisitive Miss Jemima Bridges to visit, the Major’s life is thrown into chaos. To protect his home and reputation, the Major uses his clever, often tipsy manservant, George Washington, as a foil to unsettle the visitor. A blend of social satire and farcical humor, the story endures as a portrait of post-Civil War Southern social pride and the absurdity of long-held codes of conduct.

The Story

The Major is a man of rigid, eccentric habits who maintains a lifelong, mock-serious vendetta against "old women," believing they are the bringers of trouble and moral decay. His domestic peace is guarded by his factotum, George Washington, a man of equal pomposity and a fondness for his master’s liquor. When Margaret succeeds in inviting her friend Rose Endicott and her aunt, Miss Jemima, to The Towers, the Major is initially appalled. Miss Jemima is not merely a guest; she is an observer, one who carries a journal and views the plantation through a lens of skeptical moralizing, even suspecting the Major of barbaric rituals.

The tension rises when a pair of suitors, Jeff and Mr. Lawrence, arrive to vie for the young ladies' affections. The Major, ever the meddler, takes an immediate dislike to Lawrence—whom he considers a fop—and throws his support behind his friend Jeff. When a misunderstanding leads Jeff and Lawrence to square off in a brewing conflict, the Major sees a chance to act out his obsession with the "Code," the formal, gentlemanly set of rules governing duels. He insists on presiding over the dispute, treating the prospective fight with the gravity of a military campaign.

As the Major organizes the proceedings, George Washington assumes the role of second for his master’s friend, Jeff. The manservant, having consumed a significant amount of the Major’s whiskey, dons his master’s best coat and waistcoat, believing himself to be an essential participant in the "solemn recasion." The farce reaches its peak in the garden at sunset. The Major, frustrated by the absence of the actual principals, decides that the seconds must take their places. He threatens a terrified George Washington with a pistol, leading the servant to crawl on the ground and chant funeral hymns in a blend of genuine fear and performative misery.

The climax arrives when Miss Jemima, discovering George Washington groveling on the ground, becomes convinced that the Major is about to execute him as part of the "barbarous rite" she had read about in her research. She rushes to intervene, frantically seizing the Major just as he plays out the final scene of his charade. George Washington, realizing the danger has passed but spurred by his own dramatic instincts, leaps up and bolts into the shrubbery. The Major’s ruse—a mix of intentional intimidation and protective, if misguided, humor—succeeds in driving the unwanted guest into a state of bewilderment, while the younger generation finds themselves caught up in the absurdity of the elders' games. The story concludes with the Major still shouting for his servant, the tension of the duel dissolved into the confusion and laughter of those left behind.

How It Unfolds

The unwanted arrival The Major, who prides himself on keeping his home a bachelor’s Eden, reluctantly permits his niece to invite a guest he views as a member of the "proscribed" class of old women. He immediately begins plotting to make the visitor uncomfortable, aided by his manservant, George Washington, who shares his master’s theatrical disdain for the guest.

A clash of cultures Miss Jemima brings with her a notebook and a profound suspicion of the plantation's customs, going so far as to interrogate George Washington about the slave population and the estate’s size. The Major, realizing he is being observed, begins to feed her wild, sarcastic stories about the "barbarous rites" of the region, which she records with horror.

The code of honor When two young men quarrel over romantic affections, the Major insists on formalizing their dispute through the rigid "Code." He treats the potential violence with such exaggerated gravity that he forces his drunk, costume-clad servant to participate as a secondary party to the conflict.

The final scene in the garden The Major stages a mock execution in the garden to prove his point about the "Code," terrified George Washington into a pathetic display of pleading. The scene is interrupted by Miss Jemima, whose desperate attempt to save the servant creates a chaotic, farcical ending that leaves the Major’s reputation and his home’s peace preserved through sheer, absurd effort.

The People

Major B— is the engine of the story. He is a man of fixed, unchanging habits who uses his wit and a thin veil of "gentlemanly" tradition to control his environment. He wants to maintain his bachelor sanctuary, but he is constantly pushed to perform by the arrival of outsiders.

George Washington, the Major’s factotum, is the perfect mirror to his master. He is clever, opportunistic, and deeply invested in his own importance. He thrives on the "solemn recasions" of the plantation and uses his position to both serve his master and mock those who annoy him. By the end, he has shed his mask of quiet service to become an active, if cowardly, participant in the Major’s farce.

Miss Jemima Bridges is the foil. She represents the earnest, judgmental outsider. She wants to understand the South through her own moral framework, but her lack of local context and her tendency to take the Major’s irony literally make her the primary target of his humor.

Jeff and Mr. Lawrence serve as the romantic stakes of the story. They are young, relatively naive, and entirely susceptible to the Major’s manipulation, finding themselves dragged into a duel they neither fully understand nor truly want to fight.

In Its Own Voice

“Next thing they’ll be wanting to abolish hell!”

The Major reacts with characteristic bombast when his niece suggests that their guest’s humanitarian mission is a sign of her inherent goodness.

“I have sometimes been tempted to make a break for liberty, and have thought that if I could once get the rascal on the field, with my old pistols, I would settle with him which of us is the master.”

The Major keeps the visitor in a state of constant, nervous apprehension by joking about the supposed danger posed by his own butler.

What It's Really About

The book explores the tension between tradition and intrusion, and the way performance acts as a defensive shield for the old Southern aristocracy. The Major’s obsession with the "Code" is not merely about dueling; it is a way to impose order and theater onto a world that feels increasingly encroached upon by modern, moralizing outsiders. Beneath the humor lies a question about the nature of truth—whether the Major’s lies are more "real" than Miss Jemima’s earnest, misplaced observations. Ultimately, it is a study of how people use social rituals to define their identity and keep the rest of the world at arm’s length.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the sharp, ironic wit of the 19th-century Southern literary tradition will find much to admire here. The prose is precise and melodic, capturing the cadence of a vanished social world with genuine warmth and a keen eye for human ridiculousness. The relationship between the Major and George Washington is a highlight—a complex, codependent partnership that feels both deeply rooted in its period and strikingly recognizable in its comedic timing.

However, the reader must be prepared for the realities of the setting. The book is firmly embedded in the post-Civil War South, and its attitudes reflect the period's social hierarchies and racial dynamics, which are presented without the critical distance a modern reader might expect. The dialect, while used to provide color and character depth, can be dense and occasionally difficult to parse. Furthermore, the central premise relies on a level of period-specific social obsession that may feel foreign to today’s audience. Despite these hurdles, the book remains a fascinating artifact. It is not a broad satire but a character-driven farce, and for those interested in how a specific class of society viewed its own decline, it offers a vivid, if self-consciously theatrical, window into that world. It is a story about the power of a good, well-told lie, and it lingers in the mind for the sheer, stubborn commitment of its characters.