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Southern Legacy: Completed Version

Page 71

by Jerri Hines


  “Choices can’t be undone, only lived with,” Josephine whispered. Decisions made so many years ago had dictated her life today. Some she had had control over; the others she had not.

  She wondered briefly whether she would have done things differently. She did not think she would. Of course, it was a senseless question. One could not go back in time.

  Sounds of a carriage rolling to a stop before the house silenced Jo. Cullen was home. A few moments later, he appeared in the doorway with their youngest in tow.

  “My dear, Quentin told me we had a visitor.” Cullen released the young lad, who giggled and ran over to his mother.

  Hugging her, the dark-haired five-year-old said, “Grandmother wanted me to ask if we have company for dinner.”

  “Tell Grandmother that we will indeed have a guest and to have Penniford make a room up for her as well. Can you do that, my sweet?”

  “Yes, Momma.” Quentin smiled at their visitor and scooted out the door.

  Cullen walked across the room. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. Jo’s eyes lingered on her handsome husband’s face. After all their years together, he still made her heart flutter.

  “Darling, have you met Charlotte’s daughter, Annalee?” Jo turned back to their guest, who had returned to her seat and tried her best to compose herself. “Annalee has traveled all the way from Charleston with the most wonderful news. Our wayward son is not lost. Percival is at Magnolia Bluff.”

  * * * *

  Magnolia Bluff

  Once more, Josephine walked the grounds of Magnolia Bluff. She had arrived for Percival’s wedding to Annalee Williams. Over the years, she had never returned, knowing time had done little to diminish the wound the war had left. Memories lived long in the South. Most still considered her a traitor.

  In that, she had lived with. Along with the knowledge that Magnolia Bluff endured the onslaught of reconstruction. The reality of the South’s restoration had been a harsh road to travel. Charleston had been devastated. The city itself needed to be rebuilt. It had never recovered from the fire of ’61. Every bridge and trestle had been destroyed; the depot burned. Even the train tracks had to be re-laid.

  Plantations had changed. Many families lost their farms due to the taxes owed. Carpetbaggers swept down and took advantage of the desperate situation. Dark days had descended upon the South. Most in the Carolinas had found the best way of enduring was sharecropping. Rice was no longer a feasible cash crop. Soon, it was replaced with tobacco, cotton, and corn.

  The circumstances had been no different for Magnolia Bluff. The plantation had not been profitable for years. Taxes had to be paid; a feasible cash crop had to be found. Life for the once affluent Montgomery family had become a struggle.

  Wade had left Magnolia Bluff to Percival in his will. The rest of his estate was to be divided between his children and Josephine, but the once hefty inheritance had dwindled due to the financial burden of the war.

  Through the years, Cullen had traveled several times down to Charleston and made the arrangements to help Magnolia Bluff survive the war. Andrew had overseen the everyday affairs of the estate. Slowly, the family had begun to recover.

  The reality of the world around Josephine had made the dream that Percival would take his place as master of the plantation fade. For years, Percival had displayed irresponsible behavior, which sorely tried his father’s nerves. He had steadfastly refused to go to the Naval Academy and had not distinguished himself in the family business.

  With the greatest reluctance, Percival had agreed to go to Harvard. Josephine was thrilled he had completed his years at the university. The whole immediate family traveled to Boston for his graduation. But instead of returning to Philadelphia after the festivities with his family, Percival had disappeared, leaving a note for his mother not to worry about him.

  She assumed that Percival was trying to prove himself to his father. Now, it seemed that Percival had his own ideas about his future.

  The night Annalee had made her appearance at Rosemount, Josephine approached the subject with her husband within the confines of their bedroom.

  “Percival told you where he was.” Josephine said it as a statement. In truth, there was no need to ask a question when she already knew the answer. She saw it in her husband’s eyes.

  “He asked me not to tell you.”

  “And you agreed?”

  “He did not want to hurt you,” Cullen said. “I have known for a while he wanted to live in Charleston. When he disappeared after his graduation, I deduced it was his destination. I confirmed it with a telegram to Andrew. I did not know about his intentions with Miss Williams, although it does not surprise me.”

  Josephine couldn’t deny the hurt Percival inflicted by keeping from her his plans. Granted, she had seen little of him the last couple of years, what with school and traveling during his vacations, but she never suspected his trips had been to Charleston.

  Both of her older children had had their own share of difficulties finding their place in the world. Their connections to the South had left them with a feeling of alienation, belonging neither to the North or South.

  Josephine inhaled a deep, steadying breath. “I am not a child, Cullen.”

  “That is not a question, my love,” he asserted. “I did not tell you at first because we were dealing with Madeline. Afterwards, I confess it was easier not to refer to Percival’s intentions.”

  Josephine paused at the mention of her oldest daughter…her stubborn, willful daughter who at one point seemed hell-bent on self-destruction. That was, until Hugh McFadden had taken matters into his hands by marrying her.

  Oh, she had no desire to relive those days. Cullen had ranted endlessly when Hugh announced his intention to marry Madeline. Then, Jo had known. Without telling Cullen, she had gone to Hugh for help.

  Her beautiful, confused daughter had thought herself in love with a scoundrel…a married man, who had quite taken advantage of Madeline’s innocence. When the man broke off their relationship, Madeline became obsessed with the rejection to the point where she wanted to confront the wife.

  Aghast when Madeline finally confessed the details of the affair, Jo had no one else to turn to but Hugh because Cullen was away on business. Having only recently retired from the Navy as a commander, Hugh had not hesitated.

  Hugh handled the situation and a scandal was averted. Moreover, less than three months afterwards, the once confirmed bachelor married her daughter. Reservations of Madeline marrying a man over twenty years older than herself fueled Josephine’s doubts. But over time, her fears were allayed. It became quite apparent that Madeline adored Hugh. Her daughter had become a different person, content and had only just become a mother herself to the most precious, beautiful baby girl, Corinne Margaret McFadden.

  “Cullen, Madeline hasn’t been an issue for quite some time. What are you trying to tell me?”

  His hesitation wasn’t lost on Josephine. She pressed. “You have known he wanted to live in Charleston for over two years?”

  “I realized the time would come, but I wanted Percival to tell you himself.”

  Percival had not.

  Not until his fiancée had come north to meet her. Jo assumed Annalee’s questions must have been answered. For now the whole family was here at Magnolia Bluff to enjoy the impending nuptials.

  Jo visited Miss Hazel before she departed. The dear old woman had just turned eighty, half blind, but still worked in her garden and cooked for Heyward, no matter that Heyward had hired her a housekeeper.

  “Lordy, child, got nothing to hang your head about. Why, them down there should open their arms to ya! I got no doubt ya helped every one of ’em after the war,” Miss Hazel declared.

  Jo could not argue with Miss Hazel. She never could. Miss Hazel never lost faith and had thrived in her adopted home. Active in her church, Miss Hazel had become a pillar of her community.

  Miss Hazel’s joy was her family. She beamed when she talked of both Heyward and Tome.
Heyward had become a successful businessman in his own right. He had his own cabinet works, H&T Wright Company, not to mention his real estate dealings. Though, Heyward had never remarried. Jo doubted he ever would. His heart still belonged to Gillie.

  Tome had grown into a fine young man. He had done his pa and grandmother proud. Last year, not only had Tome married a lovely young lady from his church, he had become a physician. Never had she seen such happiness illuminate from both Miss Hazel and Heyward.

  “You would not hesitate to go back South?” Jo asked for a direct answer.

  “If I was able, I would go with ya, Miss Jo.” Miss Hazel met her eyes. “Have faith, child, it is as it should be. It is, you know, what Master Wade wanted…young Mister Percival at Magnolia Bluff.”

  After all this time, the mention of Wade still upset Jo, but she knew Miss Hazel was right.

  Walking along the path beside the Ashley River, memories flooded back to Josephine. With the passing of time, the place had changed, but in a strange way had stayed the same.

  The house looked no different, strong and proud to have weathered the storm. From Jo’s understanding, it had been the only plantation that had not been burnt to the ground in the surrounding area.

  The slave cabins still stood and housed those freedmen who hadn’t wanted to leave. They were paid now for their services rendered. Amos had taken over Miss Hazel’s place at her request. He had raised his family there.

  Rosa had not left and was now employed as the housekeeper. Grace Ann had told her that there were rumors about Rosa and Andrew, but Jo gave it no mind. Observing the two of them together when she first arrived, Jo would not doubt the rumors to be true. There was something in their eyes when they looked at each other.

  Although she had never returned to Charleston since the war, she had seen most of the family when they visited Philadelphia. Andrew had been the first to travel north after the war. He sought her out immediately when he arrived at Rosemount.

  “I have not had a moment’s peace since you left. I promise you I thought it was for the best. I just had to apologize. I beg your forgiveness.”

  “There is no need to ask forgiveness, Andrew,” Josephine said. “You did what you felt you must for the family. I hold nothing against you…not now. I found Cullen again. I could not have asked for more.”

  Somehow making it right freed Jo of a heavy burden that weighed on her soul. Soon, the bridge was healed with Mother Montgomery, Jenna, Anna and eventually, Grace Ann.

  Grace Ann had reached out to her not long after Mr. Whitney passed away. She confessed she had known something had happened between Mr. Whitney and Josephine, but respected her husband’s wishes by not communicating with Jo. Grace Ann said she never knew the details, but whatever it was seemed to have haunted him until he took his last breath.

  Sadness descended upon Josephine at the thought. Death was a finality that could not be crossed.

  Josephine stood on the riverbank and stared reflectively at a great blue heron who had settled in the tall grass with a fish in its beak. Engrossed in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed her husband walk toward her.

  “I thought I would find you out here instead of resting.” Cullen walked up behind Jo and wrapped his arms about her. He held her for a moment as they soaked up the scene before them. Finally, he spoke. “Its beauty still amazes.”

  Her heart swelled with emotion, not only for the memories this place evoked within her, but for Cullen. This had been where he had been born and raised alongside his cousin Wade as if they were brothers.

  “I’m here,” he whispered. “Always and forever yours…if that helps.”

  “More than you know.” She clutched his hand tightly. She loved this man! He knew her better than she knew herself, reminding her of what they shared. Nothing…absolutely nothing could diminish their life together.

  Turning her to him, he leaned down and kissed her. A moment later, their haven was invaded by the screech of children.

  With reluctance, Cullen released his wife and whirled her around to face the onslaught of happy faces. Jo smiled, watching their children bound down the path with their Southern cousins.

  There had been a time when Josephine thought Percival and Madeline would have been her only children. Over six years passed after she married Cullen before she had Jonathan, named after Cullen’s father, followed two years later by Theodore and then the next year, Alice. Quentin’s appearance five years ago had been a surprise, but a most welcome one considering the doctor told her there would have been no more babies after Alice.

  Percival walked alongside Quentin, who ran excitedly up to his mother’s side.

  “Percy showed me his horses, Momma. He says he will teach me to ride like he does.”

  She looked up at her eldest. Tall and lean, her handsome son had never outgrown his father’s look, more so than any of her other children. His thick, dark hair was cut short; his brown eyes large and inquisitive. Unlike Cullen, he wore no mustache, but was clean-shaven. Most found him quite charming with the most disarming smile, which he had learned at a young age to use to his advantage.

  “I look forward to seeing his horses,” Jo responded. “Uncle Andrew said that Percival has an impressive stable.”

  “Uncle Andrew said it is in my blood,” Percival said. “Dad was a renowned horseman.”

  “Wade was,” Jo acknowledged. “He would be proud.”

  His arm extended to his mother, Percival asked, “Would you like to see them now?”

  Jo looked at Cullen, who nodded. “Go. I want to show the children around where I grew up.”

  Percival walked in silence until his father and children disappeared from sight. “I am glad you are here, Momma.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed your wedding, my darling child.”

  “Despite your protest, I know it was hard on you to come.”

  She couldn’t deny his words. “You are my child. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

  “I have heard. Uncle Andrew has told me. He admires you greatly for what you did during the war.” He paused and nodded toward the garden. “Do you mind if we take a few minutes away from everyone? Father knows I wanted a moment to talk to you in private.”

  “I would like nothing more.”

  “Come, then. Grandmother has added to the gardens since last you were here.”

  The garden was beautiful in the autumn. The roses lent to the fragrance of the stroll. Jo had forgotten how many flowers were still in bloom this late in the year. The hydrangeas were covered in blue blooms and soon the budding camellias would lend its beauty to the landscape.

  “You have not told me what you think of Annalee. She has been so anxious since she visited that you might think less of her. I told her that you would not. I hope you don’t. I want you to like her, Momma.”

  Josephine looked over at Percival. “She seems a lovely girl and quite in love with you.”

  “As I am with her,” he acknowledged. “She had reservations. Afraid her father would cut her off for marrying me. But when she came back from visiting you, her fears about us had been put to rest after seeing you with Father. I, also, allayed Mr. Williams’s objection. He didn’t want his little girl moving up North. I told him I was going nowhere. This is my home.”

  “So you have made up your mind.”

  “The place calls to me in a way I can’t explain. I have known for a while it’s where I belong. I knew even before Howie Albright visited Magnolia Bluff.”

  The name sounded familiar but for the life of her she couldn’t place who he was. “Who?”

  “The drummer boy who Dad gave his life to save at Shiloh. Howie came here with his son, looking for me. Said he dreamed often of coming here and felt the need to do so. Although a brief encounter, it was etched into his memory forever. He recounted Dad telling him about his home and his love he had for his family. Howie wanted me to know Dad’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. That he had lived his life holding to the courage and honor
that Dad showed before he died.”

  For a moment, Percival paused. “I didn’t need Howie Albright to tell me this was my home. I felt it the moment I returned to Magnolia Bluff, but his visit help reinforced my decision to live here. I know all you and Father have done for me but…this is where I was born…it’s where I belong…at Magnolia Bluff. I need you to say I have your blessing. I need you to say you understand.”

  She looked up at her son, realizing he had heard the call of the land. She understood his desire to live and raise his children along the banks of the Ashley River. He had become the man Wade envisioned. “My darling son, I have no right to deny you your heritage. You have my blessing.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Momma…one more thing.” He reached in his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a letter. “This is the last letter from Dad. Howie found it in his pocket after he died. He kept it all these years. It’s yours.”

  He left her alone. A long silence ensued. She stood motionless and stared at it. Finally, she sat on the bench. With trembling hands, she opened it. As she read, she could almost hear Wade’s voice…feel his presence.

  It is quiet here tonight, my love. Only the crickets and bullfrogs disturb the silence. I revel in the stillness, knowing it will not last. The men know that in the morning we face a monumental task. We have been told the odds are against us, but as it has been from the start of this blasted war, we will do what we must and fight.

  Once more I face my own mortality and my worries mount. Not for myself, but you and my children, Percival and the one that as of yet has made his appearance. I have learned that life is not about making an impact on the world as we know it, but on the lives of those you love. I wonder what impact I have made on yours, but I have a need for you to know what you have done for me.

 

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