Widow's Walk Suite
Climb to the platform where Abigail watched the harbor every evening.
See the suiteSecond floor · Queen canopy
Abigail Crane slept in this room for twenty-two years, the last eleven of them as a widow. It is the softest room in the house: gray-blue linen, a canopy bed, a deep tub and a window seat made for reading letters that took a year to arrive.
Abigail Crane came to this house as a bride in 1790, four years before her husband Nathaniel finished his new wing. She kept this chamber in the old part of the house rather than moving to the grand new rooms behind it, and a letter of hers that survives (copied into a family album now in our Library) explains why in one line: she liked "the low ceiling and the warmth of the old wall." The old wall is the great center chimney, which still runs up behind the paneling at the head of the bed and still keeps that side of the room a few degrees warmer than the rest.
When Nathaniel sailed for Sumatra in 1800 she was thirty-six. Word that his ship was lost reached Salem late in 1801, the way such news usually did, secondhand from another captain. Abigail did not remarry. She kept the house, managed her husband's affairs with a competence that shows in the account books, and every evening for eleven years she lit a lantern in the small top window under the roof, where it could be seen from the water. She died in this room in 1812, at forty-eight.
We don't make a shrine of it. The Lady's Chamber is a bedroom, and a comfortable one, and we think she would want it used. But it is the room in the house where her presence is most often described, and we would be leaving something out if we didn't mention it.
The canopy bed is a queen-size reproduction of a Federal field bed, with slim turned posts and an arched tester hung in gray-blue linen that Maren had woven to match a scrap of fabric found under a floorboard in 1995. At its foot is a cedar blanket chest; beside it, a little candlestand table (no candles). The dressing table between the windows has a tilting mirror and, in the drawer, a small bundle of dried lavender from Dr. Pell's replanted herb garden behind the house. We refresh it every week, which makes the scent story harder to test scientifically, and we are at peace with that.
The window seat looks down Mercy Lane toward the water, with a cushion deep enough to fall asleep on and a lamp positioned for reading. The bathroom, through a paneled door, has a clawfoot tub with a handheld shower, a marble-topped washstand and lavender bath salts from a maker in Maine. If you would rather have a stand-up shower, this is not your room; the Captain's Quarters across the hall has a very good one.
| Season | Months | Nightly, from |
|---|---|---|
| Winter | January – March | $269 |
| Spring | April – May | $299 |
| Summer & early fall | June – September | $339 |
| October | All month | $399 |
| Late fall & holidays | November – December | $319 |
*Rates vary by season and day of the week; taxes not included. Breakfast in the Lantern Room is included. Minimum stays apply on weekends and in October.
I woke at about four and the whole room smelled of lavender, stronger than the little bundle in the drawer could explain. I wasn't frightened at all. It felt like someone had come in to check the fire.
— A guest, the Lady's Chamber, November 2022