After the war, Dr. Tucker faced the problems of Reconstruction, but during this time he attended to the medical needs of the community as before. When he arrived home in the middle of the night, he tapped the gatehouse bell with riding crop, then made his way to the mansion, going to his room on the second floor by way of the circular stairway.

Dr. Henry Massingberd Tucker died on January 10, 1904, and was laid to rest in the cemetery at Prince George Winyah Episcopal Church in Georgetown. At about the time of the death of Dr. Tucker, the days of fortunes based on rice culture were coming to an end.

One night shortly after Dr. Tucker's death, something mysterious happened. During the night, when the rain had been of long duration and moisture had gathered on the oaks and seeped down into the Spanish moss and dripped to the lane under the trees, the bell at the gate suddenly rang as though it has been tapped by a riding crop. The sound of the bell echoed in the avenue under the giant trees near the mansion. The people who lived nearby, half asleep, thought that Dr. Tucker had returned to Litchfield from a call to a sickbed.

That eerie incident was repeated each night thereafter. Some said that the ghost of Dr. Tucker had returned to Litchfield. Others claimed that the wind, the moisture, or the chill of the night was responsible for the ringing. Whatever the cause, there were many who waited in dread for that one chime each night. When the bell rang, for a moment all their fears rushed forward. But then, since they knew the ringing was over for the night, their heartbeats slowed and their mouths were not so dry. They could settle down, knowing they wouldn't hear from the invisible caller for another twenty-four hours.

But the gatehouse bell rings no more. Litchfield Plantation is now a private residential development complete with villas, condominiums, private homes, a pool, a stable, and a marina on a Waccamaw River inlet. The manor house sits magnificently as it did in Dr. Tucker's day. Black wrought-iron gates by a brick gatehouse guard the entranceway. But the people around Litchfield Plantation can rest each night undisturbed, no longer tormented by that one, spine-tingling chime. The bell has been dismantled and taken away.