[the author is a grandson]
... My grandfather Withers was a staid and dignified country gentleman, devoted to his family, an ardent Federalist, and of course thoroughly detested Thomas Jefferson, the father of Democracy, as was shown in this incident: At his home, "Green Meadows," in Fauquier County, the family were one night aroused by a most unearthly and unaccountable noise apparently from the dining-room, and my grandmother, in alarm, asked him to see what on earth was the matter. This was before the invention of matches, so without delaying until a light could be procured, as the moon was brightly shining, he entered the dining-room whence the noise continued in unabated volume, and he was able to see something moving over the floor.
"What is it, Mr. Withers?" called my grandmother impatiently.
"My dear," was the reply, "it is either the devil or Tom Jefferson, I can't say which."
When a light was finally procured, the cause of the alarm was seen to be the house cat, which, having been accidentally shut up in the room, found the cream jug, and forcing her head into it to feast on the cream, was unable to draw it out again, and in the effort to free herself both she and the cream jug rolled off the table on the floor, then handle was broken, and she was rolling the jug around on the floor in the vain effort to extricate herself from her dilemma.
My grandfather was in his meadow one hot day in July, 1813, superintending the hay-making, when he fell to the ground in an apoplectic fit, was carried by the negroes to the house, but never recovered consciousness and died in a short time. ....
