- Historic Sites
At Home In Edenton
A colonial capital remembered for its women
February/March 2004 | Volume 55, Issue 1
“How did you hear about the Pilgrimage?” asked a volunteer at the Barker House when I showed up to buy a ticket. “Newspaper? Radio? We like to know what works.” In fact it was an accident that brought me to town last April. A lull in science-fair projects at home and the chance to meet up with an old college friend happened to coincide with the spring weekend, once every two years, when Edenton opens its private houses to the public. Following the lead of larger Southern cities like Natchez and Charleston, Edenton calls its tour, a tradition since 1949, the Pilgrimage, a word that conveys the reverence this part of the world attaches to home and family.
Edenton, in northeastern North Carolina, sits on a small peninsula on Albemarle Sound. Founded in 1722 and named the colony’s capital six years later, Edenton became a busy port, shipping lumber, food crops, and slaves. Confident in the future, lawyers and merchants built houses, organized a church, and put up a court-house. But just as Edenton was coming into its own, its fortunes began to decline. In 1766 the capital was moved to New Bern, and after 1805 the Dismal Swamp Canal diverted shipping 30 miles to the northeast. Although Edenton never regained its early prominence, it never lost its appeal. It’s still eighteenth century in scale, with homegrown shops, a wide variety of house styles, and a double supply of the porches that offer a window on a town’s interior life. Sadly, Hurricane Isabel flooded houses and toppled century-old trees here last August. When I called to commiserate, one staunch resident said, “The view is better now.”
To be first in line for the Pilgrimage, I arrived a day early and checked into the Lords Proprietors’ Inn, named for the eight men to whom Charles II gave a large slice of North America, including the Carolinas. (Ask for a room in Pack House, made from an old tobacco barn, where you can make your own coffee early in the morning and rock on the porch while Edenton wakes up.)
On most days the visitors’ center offers walking and trolley tours led by expert guides, but everyone was busy preparing for the Pilgrimage. “We usually start people at St. Paul’s Church, just around the corner,” said the manager, Linda Jordan Eure, as she showed me the route on a map, “and then we take them by the houses along Church Street, South Granville, and West King.” The churchyard, set aside in 1722, hints at village life in a way no private residence can. A weathered fence the silvery color of driftwood encloses the grounds, and many of the family names hand-carved on gravestones—Badham, Benbury, Coffield, Leary, Wood—still appear on houses, streets, and businesses nearby.
Following the route laid out on the map, I walked tree-lined streets past Georgian, Federal, Greek Revival, and Queen Anne houses. (These turned out not to be the ones that opened the following day; Edenton has historic houses to spare, and those on the tour change from year to year.) Edenton’s commercial street, South Broad, slopes down to the 1782 Barker House, a handsome two-story residence overlooking Edenton Bay. Just offshore, clumps of cypress trees rise out of the water like miniature islands.
In 1774 local wives pledged to give up british goods-the first political action by women in the colonies.
Thomas Barker was a lawyer, planter, and colonial agent who spent the pre-war years in London, leaving his second wife, Penelope, back in Edenton. When word came of the Boston Tea Party, delegates to a special North Carolina assembly met in the summer of 1774 and voted to boycott British tea and cloth. On October 25 that same year Penelope Barker called a meeting of local women, and 51 of them signed a document pledging to back the assemblymen in giving up British goods. The Edenton Tea Party, as their gesture came to be called, is believed to be the first purely political action by women in the American colonies. (In response a London newspaper published a caricature of masculine-looking mothers neglecting their children, calling it “A Society of Patriotic Ladies at Edenton in North Carolina.”)
From the Barker House I wandered over to the town green, which slopes from the brick Chowan County court-house, built in 1767, down to the bay. Near a bronze teapot mounted on a cannon, a monument to the town’s revolutionary past, I fell into conversation with a woman in a broad-brimmed straw hat. She introduced herself as Vivian Barbee Coxe, and she turned out to be the author of a children’s book about the Edenton Tea Party. “I think these wives were even braver than the men in Boston,” Coxe said. “The women here signed their names. The men disguised themselves.”
The following morning I set off on the Pilgrimage. When you buy a ticket, you receive a booklet with a map and a description of the 20-odd buildings in the town and countryside that will be open. You also get a firsthand look at Southern style. “Remember,” said my innkeeper, Jane Edwards, as I pulled out of the driveway, “here in the South it’s all about flower arrangements.”