TP
“ Binkie, is Captain Pettigrew’s description of Wilmington during the blockade accurate? Was it a mean place?”
“ Oh my, yes, Ashley. Most of the blockade runners were not a part of the Confederate navy, you know, therefore not under strict military supervision. Many sailors were merchants and profiteers. And they were paid in gold, while the Confederate soldiers were paid half in gold and half in Confederate currency. A river pilot like Captain Pettigrew could earn as much as $3000 for one successful trip up the Cape Fear. It was a time of inflation.”
“ That means there was a lot of money flowing through the town,” I said.
“ That is true, Ashley, but it rarely benefited our townsfolk. They suffered dearly from shortages of basic necessities during the war. And the privateer sailors spent their earnings on drink and brothels, so the city became quite coarse, I am afraid.”
“ Daddy always said slavery was a great evil. One man should never own another. Still, the Civil War was such a tragedy - brother fighting brother. And my heart goes out to the innocent victims of the war, to Mrs. Pettigrew and little Lacey, whose lives were thrown upside-down. And to the Captain too, forced to leave home for long periods of time, and to risk his life on the sea.”
“ True, Ashley,” Binkie agreed. “If the Union navy could have sailed up the Cape Fear they would have taken Wilmington, which eventually did happen, so men like Captain Pettigrew were fighting to save their homes from invasion.”
Binkie nodded sadly. “As you say, a tragedy for our nation.”
12
Work was progressing nicely on the Captain’s house. Paint crews had arrived and had begun applying a white base coat to the restored exterior walls. At the same time, carpenters continued to replace the siding on the south wall and then they would be finished.
Inside, I made a mental note to myself to clean the fireplace surround tiles just as soon as the dusty phase of the restoration was behind us. I took a late lunch break, left my van at the site, and walked home to check on my house.
I enjoy long walks around the historic district which provides an opportunity to admire other restorations in progress. So many old houses are getting a second change. And on empty lots, infill houses were being built in the style of the district. The historic district was experiencing revitalization.
Nun Street was quiet in the early afternoon. The day was heating up but a pleasant breeze rustled through the treetops and small white clouds scudded across the sky. Sultry weather had not yet struck. Approaching The Verandas B&B, I saw Jimmy Pogue heft two large black duffel bags into the back of his white pickup truck, then climb into the cab. He pulled away from the curb in a great rush, wheels spinning. I did not have a view of the passenger side of the truck but assumed Patsy was in there with him.
So they were actually leaving! Nothing could make me happier, although I did wonder why they were not checking into The Verandas. Oh, what did I care, I thought, as long as they were out of my house. Perhaps, they could not afford the elegant Verandas unless someone else like my sister was footing the bill. Jimmy had not seen me and for that I was grateful. I certainly did not want another confrontation with the Pogues. I’d had enough. Good riddance, was what I was thinking.
I’d just check on my house and if there were issues that needed to be resolved, well, I’d take them up with Melanie. More than anything I wanted their junk-furniture out of my parlor. I confess to being particular about my surroundings. I’d grown up in a lovely home on Summer Rest Road and Mama and Daddy had furnished it nicely. Mama had been a wonderful decorator, and made every room look pretty. I guess I had inherited my decorating talent from her. Mama would have been as horrified as I at Patsy’s collecting junk off the street and bringing it into
“ Binkie, is Captain Pettigrew’s description of Wilmington during the blockade accurate? Was it a mean place?”
“ Oh my, yes, Ashley. Most of the blockade runners were not a part of the Confederate navy, you know, therefore not under strict military supervision. Many sailors were merchants and profiteers. And they were paid in gold, while the Confederate soldiers were paid half in gold and half in Confederate currency. A river pilot like Captain Pettigrew could earn as much as $3000 for one successful trip up the Cape Fear. It was a time of inflation.”
“ That means there was a lot of money flowing through the town,” I said.
“ That is true, Ashley, but it rarely benefited our townsfolk. They suffered dearly from shortages of basic necessities during the war. And the privateer sailors spent their earnings on drink and brothels, so the city became quite coarse, I am afraid.”
“ Daddy always said slavery was a great evil. One man should never own another. Still, the Civil War was such a tragedy - brother fighting brother. And my heart goes out to the innocent victims of the war, to Mrs. Pettigrew and little Lacey, whose lives were thrown upside-down. And to the Captain too, forced to leave home for long periods of time, and to risk his life on the sea.”
“ True, Ashley,” Binkie agreed. “If the Union navy could have sailed up the Cape Fear they would have taken Wilmington, which eventually did happen, so men like Captain Pettigrew were fighting to save their homes from invasion.”
Binkie nodded sadly. “As you say, a tragedy for our nation.”
12
Work was progressing nicely on the Captain’s house. Paint crews had arrived and had begun applying a white base coat to the restored exterior walls. At the same time, carpenters continued to replace the siding on the south wall and then they would be finished.
Inside, I made a mental note to myself to clean the fireplace surround tiles just as soon as the dusty phase of the restoration was behind us. I took a late lunch break, left my van at the site, and walked home to check on my house.
I enjoy long walks around the historic district which provides an opportunity to admire other restorations in progress. So many old houses are getting a second change. And on empty lots, infill houses were being built in the style of the district. The historic district was experiencing revitalization.
Nun Street was quiet in the early afternoon. The day was heating up but a pleasant breeze rustled through the treetops and small white clouds scudded across the sky. Sultry weather had not yet struck. Approaching The Verandas B&B, I saw Jimmy Pogue heft two large black duffel bags into the back of his white pickup truck, then climb into the cab. He pulled away from the curb in a great rush, wheels spinning. I did not have a view of the passenger side of the truck but assumed Patsy was in there with him.
So they were actually leaving! Nothing could make me happier, although I did wonder why they were not checking into The Verandas. Oh, what did I care, I thought, as long as they were out of my house. Perhaps, they could not afford the elegant Verandas unless someone else like my sister was footing the bill. Jimmy had not seen me and for that I was grateful. I certainly did not want another confrontation with the Pogues. I’d had enough. Good riddance, was what I was thinking.
I’d just check on my house and if there were issues that needed to be resolved, well, I’d take them up with Melanie. More than anything I wanted their junk-furniture out of my parlor. I confess to being particular about my surroundings. I’d grown up in a lovely home on Summer Rest Road and Mama and Daddy had furnished it nicely. Mama had been a wonderful decorator, and made every room look pretty. I guess I had inherited my decorating talent from her. Mama would have been as horrified as I at Patsy’s collecting junk off the street and bringing it into
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