In a recent post on the beautiful Inn Victoria in Chester, Vermont, I mentioned "triple-sheeting" and a commenter asked, "What's triple sheeting? Is that the same as being 3 sheets to the wind??" Uhm, no, Sarah, it isn't! Though I can certainly appreciate the humor in your comment! Triple-sheeting, a style of bed-making that uses multiple layers of sheets, blankets, and duvets or bedspread-like covers, is something that a lot of upscale hotels, inns, and bed and breakfasts are starting to do as it's not only an easy way to change the design of the room should that be desired but it's also a lot more hygienic for guests. If you stop and think about it, chances are really good that the bedspreads and/or duvets that are used in guest accommodations don't get washed very often and they most definitely don't get washed in between every guest. Think about how often you wash your own bedspread and the light probably goes on, right? Uh-huh .
Long before English settlers purchased the 9-mile square of land upon which the City of Norwich, Connecticut sits, the land was owned and occupied by the Mohegan Tribe of Indians. They made their homes near the Great Falls of the City of Kings and were led by the great sachem, Uncas. One of the more popular and famous stories of Chief Uncas involves The Battle of the Great Plain that took place on September 17th, 1643 between the Mohegan Tribe and the Narragansett Tribe from neighboring Rhode Island, some of which took place near what is now known as "Indian Leap". As the story goes, Miantonomo, Sachem of the Narragansetts, led 900 of his warriors in what was to be a surprise attack on the Mohegans at Shetucket, the Mohegan capital near the City of Kings. The night before the battle, Mohegan scouts in the area observed the advancing enemy and carried the intelligence back to Uncas who formed a plan. Uncas knew he didn't have enough warriors to battle Mianton
"Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon Street; the house is the old Pyncheon House; and an elm-tree, of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon Elm." - Chapter One, The House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1851 House of the Seven Gables, circa 1915 Photo credit Whether he meant it to or not, the dwelling that took on the life of the "rusty wooden house" in Hawthorne's second novel, and which became popularly known as The House of the Seven Gables , began its story in 1668 as the house of a prominent Salem resident before almost 240 years later taking on the role of a social reform-based settlement house and museum. John Turner, the son of an English-born shoemaker and hat merchant of
Alright, I daresay that I've kept you waiting more than long enough for a post on our recent stay at Salem's absolutely fantastic Hawthorne Hotel and I guess it's past time for the "reveal" as they call it on Ghost Hunters and the like. First, though, I have to set the scene, right? For those of you who've been around the blog for awhile and have kept up with my wordy ramblings, I'm not going to post the whole history of the Hawthorne again but if you'd like a refresher or are new, please feel free to click over here where you'll find history and pictures galore. It was that post which led us to our recent stay at the Hawthorne so that we could find out firsthand if rooms #325 and #612 were, in fact, haunted. Our first night had us staying in Room #325 where stories told of the sounds of a child crying, invisible hands touching guests, and the bathroom lights and plumbing turning on seemingly of their own accord. As a matter of fact, when
I remember it very well - the very first time I laid eyes on the Mount Washington Hotel in Bretton Woods , New Hampshire and told myself that someday I was going to stay there. It was August 20th, 1991 and I was on my honeymoon with my now-ex husband; we had spent the day at the Mount Washington Cog Railway and had decided to return to our Franconia inn via the Kancamagus Highway to take in the scenic views. To get there we had to travel down Route 302 and as I looked to the left I saw it - the grandest of the White Mountain's grand hotels. Like something out of a fairy tale, the huge white castle-like structure with its bright red roof sat at the base of Mount Washington and spoke of bygone days when families would arrive via train to spend long, leisurely summers enjoying the spectacular beauty of the White Mountain region. It reminded me of one of my favorite romantic movies - "Somewhere In Time" - and one of the scariest - "The Shining" - and I k